


One Way Or Another

by hunter_king



Series: Supernatural - Wincest [52]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam Winchester, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon John Winchester, M/M, Season/Series 02 Spoilers, Top Dean Winchester, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24595609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunter_king/pseuds/hunter_king
Summary: After a hunt gone wrong leaves both John and Dean as demons, Sam breaks off from his family and spends all of his time trying to find a cure. When Dean finally finds him, Sam is forced to deal with the feelings he still has for his brother as well as his desire for all of them to be a family again.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Supernatural - Wincest [52]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1190095
Comments: 1
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LivingDeaDGirl244](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivingDeaDGirl244/gifts).



> Beta'd by the lovely jdl71  
> Art done by the lovely jdl71 too!

The sound of his phone vibrating under the table where he'd dropped it hours earlier pulled Sam from his research, causing the young Winchester to groan. Bobby knew that he was in deep right now – on the brink of a major break – and Sam had specifically told him not to call unless it was absolutely necessary. Really, the only reason Sam was even contemplating answering the phone was because he thought the older hunter may have had his own breakthrough. 

Once he had the phone in his hands, Sam didn't even bother looking at the Caller I.D. before he flipped it open and pressed the receiver against his ear. “Bobby?” he answered, his voice sounding a lot more desperate than he had intended. However, when the person on the other end spoke, Sam could physically feel the blood draining from his face. “Dean,” he breathed, heart kicking up in his chest. 

He hadn't spoken to Dean since the incident. A few years back, he and John had gotten into an altercation with a pretty powerful demon. Sam wasn't sure how it happened, but a few months later when he'd been able to locate them, they'd _changed_. Sam learned later that they had both been turned into demons. And as soon as he found out, Sam had fled. He'd been looking for a cure ever since. But so far, he'd found zip. And it seemed as though he was running out of time.

They'd been looking for Sam since he left. And hiding from the two people in your world who knew the most about you was almost impossible. That's why he was staying at Bobby's place – the panic room the older hunter had built on his weekend off one summer was demon proof. No one could find Sam here, which meant that Bobby was safe, too. As long as they didn't catch on that the older hunter was helping him, Sam could keep Bobby out of the line of fire.

“Sammy,” Dean chuckled into the phone. “I wasn't sure you were going to answer. I've been calling for weeks now.” The number he'd had for Sam had been disconnected months ago. But after he'd tortured that mullet-sporting genius from the Roadhouse, Dean had gotten a good number for Sam. And he'd been trying to get in contact with him ever since.

Sam felt like he was going to pass out. His head hurt, and he was feeling pretty dizzy. “Dean?” he asked once more, not really sure what to say. “How did you get this number?” He'd been careful. Only a few people knew this number. And usually Sam was pretty good about not answering numbers he didn't know. If they weren't in his contact list, they could either text him or call Bobby. Sam had a system. But he hadn't been paying attention today, and now he was so screwed.

Another chuckle escaped Dean at Sam's question. “Your friend was really liberal with information about you when he had the right motivation, Sammy,” Dean assured his brother. “Oh...what was his name? I just...you know, I can't remember. Ace? Art?” He barked out a laugh when Sam breathed a name into the phone. “Yeah, Ash, that's it! He told me whatever I wanted to know. I mean, after a little push. And you know how persuasive I can be, Sammy.”

Tears pricked at the back of Sam's eyes as he thought about all of the terrible things Dean could have done to Ash. And it was all because of him. “Did...did you kill him?” Sam asked, involuntarily holding his breath as he waited for the answer.

Again, Dean chuckled. “Oh Sammy, always so worried about other people,” Dean mused fondly. “No, I didn't kill him. I might need him again.” He could hear Sam exhale over the phone, his eyes slipping closed as he leaned against the alley wall. “Sammy, listen to me,” he instructed, eyes scanning the area for any unwanted ears. “I know where you are. I know who you're with. And I just happen to be in the same city as Bobby Singer right now. As a matter of fact, I saw him poking around some junk yard earlier. I was going to say hello, but I decided against it.”

Now, Dean had Sam's full attention. “Dean, don't hurt him,” Sam pleaded. He knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to Bobby because of him. “He has nothing to do with this. It's between us – our _family_. Bobby isn't part of that.”

“You're damn straight he isn't a part of that,” Dean hissed. “But you made him a part of this when you decided to go to him for help.” Dean had always been close to Bobby Singer. He'd considered him a second father at one point in his life. But now, he just _hated_ the older hunter. He'd taken Sam under his wing, and he'd hidden the younger man from Dean for over a year. It was time Dean got his brother back. 

Fear coiled tightly in Sam's stomach as he listened to Dean. There was so much rage – such venom – in his voice when he spoke about Bobby. It was nothing like the Dean he remembered. “Dean, please, don't bring him into this,” Sam begged. “I'm the one you want. He has nothing to do with it.” He physically recoiled when Dean yelled into the phone about Bobby hiding him from them. “Dean, he just did what I asked him to! He was just being a good friend! Please?” 

Unable to see another way out of this, Sam surrendered. “I'll meet you,” he suggested. “Whatever you want to do, I'll meet you. We can talk about this.” Biting into his bottom lip, Sam tried to steady his breathing. “Just...don't hurt any more of my friends, Dean.”

It was almost too good to be true. “Fine,” Dean answered after a moment of silence. “Meet me at the diner Bobby always used to take us to for breakfast. Come alone.” Before he hung up, Dean warned, “And Sammy, don't try anything stupid.”

Although Sam was scared out of his mind, he wasn't an idiot. He knew better than to try anything with Dean. The last time he'd tried to outsmart Dean and capture him, he'd failed miserably. That was when he'd decided it was best to run. Now, after over a year, Sam was just going to give himself to Dean. After everything he'd done to avoid this, now in less than five minutes, Dean had managed to get him alone. And Sam didn't know if he would make it out the same.

Sighing, Sam stuffed his phone into his pocket before he grabbed his jacket and headed out of the panic room. His whole body felt cold as he walked up the stairs into the main part of the house. Never in a million years had he thought he'd be leaving that room without a cure. But here he was. He made sure to jot down a quick note for Bobby so the older hunter didn't come looking for him when he got back before he walked out of the house.

**~~**

Twenty minutes – that's how long Sam had been waiting at this diner for his brother to finally show up. When Dean walked through the door, shooting one of the more attractive waitresses with a thousand watt smile, Sam felt his chest tighten. Dean looked good – he hadn't changed at all. Meanwhile, Sam looked a lot different. His hair was longer now, and he'd been spending a lot of time working out, so he'd filled out quite a bit since the last time Dean saw him. It was uncanny looking at the older man and seeing the same man he'd grown up with – knowing that Dean was so much different than that person now.

He waited for Dean to take a seat across from him, eyes never leaving the older man. Sam felt like Dean was staring right through him when those familiar jade green eyes landed on him. Trying to be inconspicuous, Sam squirmed a little in his seat. He didn't want Dean to know how much he was affecting him. 

A wide smile came to Dean's lips as he noticed the way his presence alone was making his little brother react. Damn, Dean had missed him so much. “Long time no see, Sammy,” Dean mused, not bothering to hide the way his eyes raked over the younger man's body. “You look good. _Really_ good.” He wanted to get Sam the hell out of here and have his way with him. His body was already responding to the younger man and he'd only been here for sixty seconds. 

“You look the same,” Sam mumbled, folding his hands in front of him. The waitress came over then, stopping the two from talking about much more. Sam was about to order himself another coffee, but Dean told her that they wouldn't be ordering anything this evening, dismissing her without a second thought. Almost as soon as the waitress left, Sam demanded, “What do you want, Dean?” He wasn't in the mood for niceties. Dean had attacked his friend, and threatened a man he considered family. This was personal.

All of those years people had always said how Sam was the one with the brains in the family. Well, the younger man didn't seem to be using those brains right now. “Isn't it obvious?” Dean asked, brows knit as he stared at his brother. Clearly Sam couldn't be that stupid. “You left us, Sammy. We just want you back. Dad's been trying to find you. He wants to make up for all of the shit he put you through before college. And then while you were in college. He wants us to be a family again.”

If the circumstances had been different, Sam would have jumped at the opportunity of being a family again. Hell, everything had been taken away from him last year – Jessica, college, a shot at a normal life – his family was all he had left. And then they'd been ripped away from him, too. “Yeah? And what do _you_ want, Dean?”

Without warning, Dean pushed himself from his seat, moving around the table to flop onto the bench seat next to Sam. He crowded into the younger man's space, smirking when Sam pushed himself further into the seat, only to be stopped by the wall when he tried to put more distance between the two of them. “I thought it was pretty obvious what I wanted too, Sammy,” Dean whispered, hot breath fanning over the shell of Sam's ear because he was so close.

Sam's breaths were panting out of him as he tried to keep his cool. He hadn't missed the way Dean's eyes raked over him when he walked into this diner. And he wasn't stupid. He could guess what Dean wanted. Hell, before he'd gone to Stanford, they'd been well on their way to stepping over a few lines. But it had all stopped with just a few stolen kisses and some over their clothing handjobs. Dean hadn't wanted to leave John alone to hunt. So he hadn't taken Sam's offer to come with him and start a new life. So it had all ended the summer before he left for school.

Now though, it seemed like Dean was trying to rekindle that old flame. “Dean,” Sam whispered, shaking his head slightly. “I can't. Not now. Not...like this.” He wanted to say that he didn't want to be with Dean while he was a demon, but he really didn't want to upset the older man. After all, his brother was like a powder keg before he'd been turned into a demon. Now, Sam could only imagine what Dean's temper was like.

It took everything Dean had in him not to just shove Sam against that wall and take what he wanted from him. “Not like what?” he asked instead, eyes ticking from Sam's own champagne hazels down to his lips and back. His brother apparently understood what he wanted, but he was playing hard to get. Dean wasn't okay with that. He'd wanted Sam since they'd stolen kisses while their father was away on hunts, and Sam was really going to deny him? Now? Especially after his feelings for Sam had only intensified since he'd become a demon. It was just cruel!

He couldn't think. Not when Dean was so close to him. Not when he was looking at him with such fire in his eyes. “Dean, c'mon, man, gimme some space,” Sam muttered. His hand was against Dean's chest before he even realized what he was doing, trying to shove the older man away from. 

Before Sam had a chance to pull his hand away, Dean's fingers wrapped around his wrist, shoving the younger man's hand lower until his sweaty palm rested against the bulge in the front of Dean's jeans. His grip tightened when Sam tried to jerk his hand away, Dean not willing to lose this contact just yet. “Answer me, Sam,” Dean ordered. “Not like what?”

Slowly, Dean moved his hand so that it was resting on Sam's thigh, a devilish smirk coming to his lips as his fingers slid over Sam's leg. He made quick work of shoving his hand down the front of Sam's jeans, finally releasing the younger man's wrist once Sam's cock was firmly in his hand. “Don't make a sound, Sammy,” Dean whispered, eyes scanning the busy diner. “Wouldn't want to get arrested for public indecency.”

As soon as Dean's hand was on his cock, it was like his brain short circuited. One hand shot out to grip the table, knuckles turning white as Sam held on for dear life. His other hand wrapped around Dean's wrist, the younger man biting into his bottom lip as he allowed his own eyes to survey the diner. There were too many people in here for this. The last thing Sam wanted was to cause a scene. “Dean...” he breathed, shaking his head slightly. “Please...stop? Not here. Please?”

Leaning in, Dean pressed his lips to Sam's ear so he could hear him when he spoke in hushed tones. “I want you,” Dean explained, his tone almost pleading. “I've had enough of this waiting. When you left for Stanford, I wanted you. But you had Jessica. And then she died and I couldn't bring it up after that Sammy. The timing was just never right. It's right now, baby.” Nipping the shell of Sam's ear, Dean smirked when he felt the younger man's dick twitch in his palm. “Please? Gimme what I want.”

Although Sam wanted to tell Dean no, he just couldn't. He wanted Dean too. He'd gotten with Jessica when he was in school, and he'd fallen in love with her, but she hadn't been Dean. None of the women he'd been with since Jessica had been able to replace Dean either. It was like a nagging little voice in the back of his mind telling him everyone else was wrong – there was just one person for him. And it didn't matter that the one person he wanted was probably the most wrong for him – he _wanted_ Dean. More than he'd wanted anyone ever. And right now, the fact that Dean was a demon didn't seem to bother him as he pressed his forehead against Dean's jaw, teeth clenched tightly together. “Let's go,” he breathed before he even really registered that he was talking.

A wide smile pulled at Dean's lips when Sam started shoving him out of the booth. Quickly, Dean pulled his hand from the younger man's pants before he tossed a few bills on the table for Sam's coffee. His fingers laced with Sam's as he tugged the younger man out the back door of the building. Once they were away from prying eyes, Dean shoved Sam against the alley wall, crushing their lips together so hard their teeth clacked.

The kiss took Sam by surprise, the younger man gasping softly. Dean's tongue slid into his mouth as soon as Sam parted his lips, exploring the hot cavern and relearning every nook and cranny. His hands moved to grip at the back of Dean's shirt, fisting the fabric in his hands. “D'n,” he breathed when the kiss finally broke. His breaths were panting out of him, and he felt a little dizzy. 

“Come back with me, Sammy,” Dean whispered against Sam's mouth, nipping the younger man's bottom lip. “We can be a family again. That's what we all want. It's for the best. Sammy, you belong with us. You belong with your family. Please, baby...don't leave me again? I can't...lose you. Not again, Sammy. I won't.”

Another moan escaped Sam when Dean crushed their lips together again. He was impossibly hard in his jeans, and right now, he wasn't even sure which way was up. Dean was talking about how he couldn't lose him, and Sam felt the same way. He'd been without Dean for so long – he couldn't do it again. “Take me, Dean,” Sam breathed when the kiss broke again. “Dean, please...I need you. Please?”

Dean didn't need to be told twice. Reluctantly, Dean pulled away from Sam. He once again took his brother's hand, all but dragging him to the Impala. Once he had Sam in the passenger seat – where he belonged – Dean sped off toward the room he'd rented for the evening. He wanted to just take Sam now, but they didn't have any lube, and he wasn't about to hurt the younger man. Dean wanted their first time to be unimaginably great. He didn't want Sam to remember it and associate it with pain. 

It wasn't long before Dean was pulling into the parking lot of the motel room he'd rented. As soon as they were in the room, Dean shoved Sam against the door, lips capturing Sam's once more as his skilled fingers worked the buttons of Sam's flannel. Once he had the shirt open, Dean shoved it off Sam's shoulders, using it to bind Sam's arms behind his back. 

A low whine escaped Sam when Dean held his hands behind his back. “Dean,” he complained, struggling to break free. He gasped softly when Dean gripped his hips and forced their jean clad cocks together, grinding against Sam like a cat in heat. “God, Dean...please?” Sam begged, eyes squeezing closed as he pressed his head against the door behind him.

When Sam's neck was bared to him, Dean took the opportunity to lean in and bite at the tender flesh. The sounds Sam was making and the way his body was responding to him was driving Dean wild. “Sammy, so hot for me, baby,” Dean teased, tongue sliding from Sam's pulse point up to his earlobe before Dean took the lobe between his teeth and nibbled gently. 

Again, Sam gasped when Dean bit his ear. Dammit, his brother knew how sensitive he was there. Wiggling again under his brother's body, Sam managed to break free from the fabric binding his arms, flicking the shirt off his wrists and onto the floor. He didn't have a chance to do much else before Dean shoved his T-shirt off, leaving his chest bare to his brother.

Of course, as usual, Dean didn't play fair. His head dipped as his hands pressed firmly against Sam's hips, holding the younger man in place against the door as his lips closed over Sam's left nipple. “Ah, God, Dean!” Sam cried out, his hands moving to card through Dean's hair, holding the older man in place. 

After a few moments, Sam jerked Dean's head back with the grip on his hair. He didn't miss the way his brother practically growled at him. Nor did he miss the way that noise sent blood rushing to his cock. Without hesitation, Sam gripped the hem of Dean's T-shirt, all but ripping the fabric off his brother's body. He then shoved Dean backward, moving away from the door as he continued to push his brother until Dean fell onto the mattress.

“C’mon, Sammy,” Dean moaned softly when the kiss broke, his hips lifting off the mattress to press his erection into Sam’s hip. God, he wanted the younger man so badly.

This was too much. It was too real. Too fast. Dean was still a demon, and Sam had no idea what he was doing right now. But he also knew there was no chance he was going to stop. He couldn't even if he wanted to. Dean was looking at him with hunger in his eyes, and Sam had wanted this for far too long to ruin the moment now. So, he just stopped thinking about it – if he didn't think about it, then he couldn't make himself feel guilty about it. Leaning in, Sam crushed his lips against Dean's once more, his moan being swallowed up in the kiss.

When the kiss broke, Dean shoved against Sam’s chest, forcing him to sit up a little more. Roughly, he grabbed the button of Sam's jeans, yanking it open before he shoved the denim off Sam’s body and tossed it into the corner. Sam apparently got the idea then, shoving the rest of Dean’s clothes off so they were both completely bare to each other. Sam took advantage of Dean being bared to him, hands moving over every inch of his brother he could reach before he crushed their lips together once more, a small moan breaking from the younger man’s lips.

As they continued to kiss, Sam reached into the nightstand where he knew there would be some lube, grabbing the small bottle and squeezing a generous amount of lube into his palm once he’d pulled back from the kiss. Smiling, he ran his fingers through the lube, getting them good and slick before he reached back behind himself and pushed one of his fingers into his hole, opening himself up for what was to come.

After a few moments, Sam added a second finger as he continued to work himself open, seeing that Dean was getting worked up more and more as he watched him. When he added a third finger, Sam smiled down at his brother. “Are you going to be okay if I touch your cock?” he asked. “Or are you going to blow your load early?”

“Don’t worry about me baby,” Dean assured him with a slight shake of his head. “Go ahead and touch, just don’t tease. Want you so much right now Sam. Trying so hard to control myself here and be a good boy, but you’re not making it easy.”

Smiling wider, Sam leaned down and crushed his lips against Dean’s, tongue pushing into the demon's mouth. He pulled back soon after, pushing up off Dean’s chest as he pulled his fingers from inside himself and turning at the waist, hand gripping the base of his brother’s shaft before slowly lowering himself down onto him. Dean’s pre-cum was enough lube combined with the way Sam worked himself open, so the younger man didn’t think there was anything else that needed to be done before they got this show on the road.

Soft moans and groans broke from Sam’s throat as he sheathed Dean inside himself, not stopping until Dean was buried to the hilt. Once he had Dean all the way inside him, both of his hands came down to rest against Dean’s chest as his head fell forward, hair flopping down to cover his face.

It felt so good to be with Sam like this; better than he could have ever imagined. And he had imagined it _a lot_. But he knew he shouldn’t be surprised by that. Everything that involved Sam was better than he could have possibly imagined. And sure, maybe it was wrong because they were brothers, but it was kind of inevitable if Dean thought about it. Sam had been his since the night he carried him out of their burning house, so this shouldn’t have come as a shock to either of them, he supposed.

When Sam had him buried to the hilt, Dean moaned as his head pressed back against the pillows, watching his brother from beneath heavy lidded eyes. God, if he thought Sam was hot before, seeing him with his hair all in his face just made him so much hotter; it was taking all Dean had not to thrust up into Sam before the younger Winchester was ready. His hands came up to run up and down Sam’s arms as he mumbled, “You’re so fucking hot, Sammy. You drive me crazy.”

Feeling Dean’s hands on him, Sam opened his eyes to mere passion-glazed slits. He was overjoyed that he could drive Dean crazy, even when he wasn’t really doing anything. Huffing out a soft laugh, Sam replied, “Just wait until we actually get going. Then you’ll really be driven crazy.” Slowly, he gave an experimental thrust backwards, moaning when Dean’s cock hit his prostate. He was definitely ready now.

“Oh God, feels so good, Dean,” Sam moaned, pressing down against Dean’s chest, using his knees to push off the mattress for the most part, raising himself almost completely off Dean’s dick before he slid back down.

Moans and groans filled the room as Sam continued to ride Dean. There was no way he was going to last much longer, having been achingly hard since Dean shoved his hand down his pants in that diner. And he was setting the pace just right, for both of them if Dean’s moaning was any indication and Dean’s cock hitting his prostate with every thrust. Sam was definitely not going to last much longer at this rate. “D-Dean,” he gasped, fingers curling around his brother’s nipples, short blunt nails digging into the flesh. “I’m close.”

The way Sam’s inner muscles were clenching around his achingly hard flesh let Dean know it wasn’t going to be long before he was cumming inside his brother. His hands on Sam’s hips tightened their grip a little as he moaned in pleasure, his head once again pressing into the pillows. “Yeah, me too baby,” he assured Sam, nodding slightly. “Do it. Cum for me, baby.” One hand moved to grip the base of Sam’s shaft and began to slide along his brother's length, using the pre-cum oozing from Sam’s slit to help slick the way.

Once Dean told him to cum and his hand soon followed, Sam was gone. There was nothing he could have done to stop himself from cumming at that moment, even if he knew it would have caused the world to end. His back arched, body tensing and his nipples pebbling as he felt heat pool low in his belly, balls drawing up close to his body before the first ribbon of cum shot from his cock, wetting Dean’s hand.

As Sam came, his inner muscles clenched even tighter around Dean’s sensitive cock sheathed inside him and Dean was gone, giving a shout of pleasure as he came inside his brother. Moans of pleasure spilled from both their throats as they rode out the waves of their orgasms.

Sam barely remembered to roll off Dean before he collapsed, at the last minute making the turn so that he didn’t fall on top of Dean and all but crush him. He was panting out his breaths and he could feel Dean’s cum dripping out of him and wetting his thighs, but he didn’t care. Right now he was completely sated and ready for a good long nap. Of course, that probably wasn’t going to happen. They needed to talk about this. Sam knew that Dean wanted him to come home, but Sam wasn't ready to stop trying to cure him. He wanted his brother back – he _needed_ his brother back. “D-Dean, we should—” Sam started, only to be cut off by his brother.

Pressing his finger against Sam's mouth, Dean shushed his little brother. “Sammy, I don't wanna talk, alright?” he asked, knowing that Sam was all about that chick flick bullshit. And he always wanted to talk after sex rather than just sit there and enjoy the moment. It was nice to know that some things never changed. “Just lay here with me. We can cuddle – you know, all that lovey dovey shit you like so much.”

Anger quickly had Sam's post-orgasmic high skittering away at Dean's words. “It's not shit, Dean!” Sam argued. He would have been more than happy to cuddle three seconds earlier before his brother opened his mouth. But this wasn't Dean – it was painstakingly obvious. Dean would have never said that to him – sure, he may have thought it, but he never would have _said_ it. 

It was immediately obvious that Dean had said the wrong thing and now Sam was pissed at him. “Hey,” he tried to placate, hands moving to pull Sam closer to him, even as the younger man fought him. “I didn't mean that. C'mon Sammy, you know what I meant. I just don't wanna talk. I just wanna lay here and enjoy the moment.” Cupping Sam's cheek, Dean caught his little brother's gaze and held it. “I've missed you, baby.”

He'd missed Dean, too. But not this version of Dean. Hell, he'd been so stupid. He'd allowed Dean to manipulate him and get him into bed when that's the last thing he wanted. Sam wanted his _brother_. Not this demonic version of him. But maybe he could use this to his advantage. Maybe getting close to Dean was exactly what Sam needed to do. Kind of like keeping his friends close, and his enemies closer. Yeah, that's what he needed to do. “Yeah, Dean, I know,” Sam mumbled, nodding slightly. “I missed you too.” 

When he pressed his head against Dean's chest, Sam formulated his new plan. He was going to take Dean and John down from the inside. They wanted Sam in their lives again? Well, he could make that happen. And when he was done with them, they were going to be saved.


	2. Chapter Two

Sam jerked awake the following morning alone in bed. Quickly, he pushed himself into a seated position, eyes darting around the motel room in search of his brother. There was no way Dean would have left him alone. Not after last night – Dean had wanted him back. And so did John from what Dean had said. So it didn't make any sense for Dean to leave him in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye.

The door opened then, forcing Sam to grab the blankets that he must have kicked off in his sleep and pull them over his naked lower half. However, when he saw Dean walk through the door with a couple of fast food bags and two coffees in his hand, Sam immediately relaxed. “You're up early,” Sam commented, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and searching for his discarded underwear. He found them quickly enough, pulling them up his hips before he started his search for the rest of his clothing. 

“Yeah, well I figured you'd want coffee,” Dean answered as he moved toward the small table in the middle of the room. “And I was hungry.” These days, Dean didn't sleep much, anyway. He really didn't need to. Most of the evening, he'd just watched Sam sleep until he decided it was early enough to leave the room and get them some grub. “I got you pancakes with that girly syrup you like to eat.”

When Dean made fun of his syrup choices, Sam rolled his eyes. He didn't like all of the added sugars. It gave him a headache. Tugging his jeans onto his body, Sam scanned the room for his flannel. He remembered that Dean had used it to basically keep him immobile for a while, so he figured it was by the door somewhere. “Thanks, Dean,” Sam smiled, moving to get his shirt once he'd found it. 

Now completely dressed, Sam felt more at ease. He needed to keep his cool. He couldn't let Dean on to the fact that he was lying to him about being okay with this. “So, I need to go get my stuff today,” Sam explained, digging into his food Dean had gotten for him. Damn, he loved pancakes. “If I'm staying with you, I need my stuff.”

As soon as Sam mentioned going back to Singer's house, Dean's whole body went stiff. “Can't we get you new stuff?” Dean suggested, tearing into his bacon. “I don't mind. We can go on a shopping spree. What do you need? Just clothes. That'll be easy.”

A deep frown came to Sam's lips when Dean suggested they just get him new stuff. “No, Dean,” Sam argued. “I have a lot of irreplaceable things that I need to get back.” He could see how Dean's mood immediately changed, so Sam braced himself for a fight. “It won't take long, Dean. I just have to run over and grab a few things. I'll be back before you even realize that I'm gone.”

Dean highly doubted that. “I'll notice you're gone as soon as you leave, Sam,” Dean assured the younger man. “I don't understand what's so irreplaceable that you need to go get it.” Pushing his food around on his plate, Dean wished that he had a beer right about now. “You know if you go back there, Bobby's going to try to hide you away from me again.”

It was obvious that Dean didn't want him to go back to Bobby's place, but Sam needed to. All of his notes from the last year were there. All of his research. Not to mention all of his clothes and his laptop. And Sam wasn't too keen on the idea of starting over from scratch. He'd worked too hard over the last year to just throw in the towel now and start all over. “Dean, it'll be fine,” Sam tried to placate. “I won't let him try to hide me away from you. Bobby respects my decisions. He wouldn't do that.”

Unable to hold back the scoff, Dean stabbed a sausage link with his plastic fork. “Oh, he wouldn't?” Dean growled. “He's been hiding you for the last year, Sam! What makes you think he won't try again?! He knows what I am! And I'm sure he knows that I'm with Dad, and what Dad is, too! Let's not forget that he's a hunter, Sam! A hunter who just happens to think he's your family! What do you think he's going to do when you tell him you're leaving with me?”

Swallowing thickly, Sam shook his head. “Dean, trust me, he's never tried to keep me from doing something I wanted to do.” And that was true. Bobby always let Sam make his own decisions – even if he thought Sam was making the wrong one. “He's not going to try to keep me from you. I mean, he might say something – voice an opinion – but that's all. I'll come back.”

Suddenly, Sam's words hit Dean like a brick. “So...you've been staying away from me on your own then?” Dean asked, feeling anger rise up inside his chest. “For _a year_?!” Scoffing once more, Dean shook his head. “Wow. So, you just expect me to let you walk out this door and hope that you're not lying to me? When you've been doing everything in your power to dodge me? How stupid do you think I am, Sam?”

Anger bubbled up inside Sam when Dean spoke. “You can't keep me here, Dean!” Sam argued. “I'm not your damn pet! I'm your brother!” Taking a deep breath, Sam tried to calm himself down. Getting mad wasn't going to solve anything right now. “Dean, I'm telling you right now that I _will_ come back. I promise. Trust me, okay?”

“You better,” Dean warned, voice low and dangerous. “If you think I'm going to just let you go again, you're wrong.” Onyx eyes looked up from his food to lock on Sam's. “Don't think I won't come to that salvage yard and rip apart anyone who stands in my way of getting to you.”

Sam's breath picked up in his chest as he stared into onyx eyes. This wasn't his brother. Sam had to remember that. Sure, it looked like Dean. It talked like Dean. It did _everything_ Dean did. But it wasn't Dean. Not the Dean Sam was used to. So, he needed to play things smart. “Dean, I promise I will come back. You don't have to threaten my friends. It just pisses me off when you do.”

Without warning, Sam tossed his fork onto his plate of half eaten pancakes as he made his way to the door. He gasped when Dean grabbed his hip and flipped him, Sam's back slamming against the door. His breath was stolen from his throat when Dean crushed their lips together in a hard, possessive kiss. 

When the kiss broke, Dean stared at Sam with black eyes once more. “You're _mine_ , Sam,” Dean growled lowly. “Don't forget it. If you think for one second there's anything I won't do to get to you, you're sadly mistaken. Just remember that there isn't a single person on this Earth who means more to me than you. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you where you belong.”

The anger immediately left Dean's face as his eyes bled back to the bright, emerald green Sam was used to and a wide smile came to his lips. “Hurry back, Sammy,” he ordered in an annoyingly chipper tone. “We have a long drive ahead of us, baby. Dad's expecting us.”

As Sam made his way out of the motel room, he realized how damn stupid this plan really was. He thought he'd known Dean better than anyone, but in his current state, he was unpredictable. Sure, there was still that same need inside Dean for him, but it had changed. Somewhere along the line, it had morphed into something akin to an obsession. Clearly, this mission was going to be a lot harder than Sam had originally realized. 

Shoving the keys into the Impala's ignition, Sam eased his way onto the highway. As he made the drive back to the salvage yard, Sam couldn't help but wonder if he was in way over his head right now. And that scared him a lot more than it should.

**~~**

About an hour later, Sam pulled into the salvage yard. When he saw Bobby at the door, Sam frowned deeply. The older hunter wasn't going to take this well. “Hey Bobby,” Sam greeted when he climbed out of the Impala and made his way toward the door. 

Suspicious as ever, Bobby nodded at Sam. “Sam,” he greeted. “Where'd you get the car? Thought it was off with yer brother.” As a matter of fact, Bobby _knew_ that Dean had the car. He'd seen it following him the night before when he'd been out on his supply run. And he'd been ready for a fight if it came down to it. Now that Sam had it, Bobby wanted answers. 

“I saw Dean,” Sam answered, not willing to lie to the other man. “He called me last night and I hadn't been paying attention, so I answered the phone without knowing. I thought it was you telling me you'd found something.” Biting into his bottom lip, Sam explained, “Dean threatened you, Bobby. He told me if I didn't meet him, he was going to hurt my friends. He already attacked Ash. I called him while I was on my way to the diner to meet Dean, and he's fine – a little banged up, but fine. But I couldn't risk Dean hurting more people because of me. You know that.”

And he did. Bobby knew just how hard Sam took things like this. “I know, boy,” he assured the younger man. “So what happened? I know yer brother wouldn't part with that car unless he was dead. Is he...okay?”

The thought of Dean being dead had Sam's blood running cold. “Yeah, Bobby, he's fine,” Sam assured him. “I mean...as fine as he can be in his current situation.” Being a demon wasn't exactly something Sam would classify as fine. “He...wants me to go with him and spend time with Dad.”

Another deep frown came to Bobby's lips when Sam explained the situation. “Yer not thinkin' about goin', are ya?” Bobby asked, hating to even think that Sam might be giving himself over to demons. Sure, they were his family, but they weren't the same men Sam knew. Bobby had been tracking John's movements, and he sure as hell wasn't playing with a full deck anymore. And Bobby could only assume that Dean was right there alongside his father for all of it. After all, Dean had been raised to be the perfect little soldier. Bobby didn't think it would be any different with them being demons.

He wasn't just thinking about it. “Bobby, I have to go,” Sam assured the older man. “Look, Dean won't hurt me. I can keep doing what I'm doing while making Dean think I'm on his side. This is the only way I can keep my friends safe, Bobby! I have to do it!”

This was crazy. “What makes you think Dean won't hurt you?!” Bobby demanded. Sam wasn't the one who had been tracking their every move – Bobby had. “Look what he did to Ash, boy! He's not the same hunter you knew! He's broken! The first chance he gets, he's goin' to break you too!”

While Sam knew that was a possibility, he had to keep a straight head about this. “No, he won't!” Sam argued. “You don't understand Dean like I do, alright?!” Sure, Sam wasn't sure he felt the same way about their father, but after seeing the way Dean reacted this morning when he said he wanted to leave, Sam had to believe that Dean would protect him from _whatever_ came at him. And Sam was an experienced hunter! Sure, he'd been out of the game for a while, but it was kind of like riding a bike. He could handle himself. “Bobby, I need you to trust me. I have to go.”

Although Bobby hated this idea with a passion, he knew there was nothing he could do to keep Sam here. Once the younger man made up his mind about something, he was a stubborn sonuvabitch. “Fine,” he grumped, removing his hat and running his hand through his thinning hair. “But yer ass better keep in contact with me so I know yer okay! The second I get a whiff'a you bein' in trouble, I'm comin' fer ya!”

Chuckling, Sam shook his head. “I wouldn't expect anything else,” he assured the older hunter. “I'm gonna grab my stuff and then head back to Dean. I'll make sure I can still call and text. But Bobby, I don't want you tangled up in this mess with Dean. Keep your distance and stay safe. I'm going to cure them. It's just gonna take a while.”

Sadly, Sam headed into the house and down to the basement. He gathered all of his things from the panic room, shoving his notes and research deep into his bag so it was hidden from prying eyes. Once he had everything he needed, Sam moved back to the Impala, tossing his bags into the back seat. Before he left, Sam wrapped Bobby up in a big hug. “I'll call you later,” he promised, smiling sadly at the older hunter before he was on his way back to Dean.

It took less time to get back to the motel because traffic was light, which Sam was grateful for. As he gathered his bags from the back seat, Sam felt his heart hammering in his chest. He was really starting to wonder if this was the right move. There was so much about Dean and his father now that Sam just didn't know. Plus, he hadn't seen John Winchester since the night he'd left for Stanford, and those memories hadn't really been great. Who was to say that John didn't want to rip his head off right now?!

Pushing those thoughts aside, Sam pocketed the keys and headed into the motel room once more. The door wasn't locked, which was weird, but Sam tried not to think too much about it. “Dean?” he called out as he pushed the door closed behind himself, tossing the lock in place. Just because Dean wanted to leave himself exposed didn't mean Sam wanted the same. “Dean?”

As he tossed his bags onto the floor beside the bed, Sam heard the shower running, letting him know exactly where his brother was. Sighing, Sam moved to the table once more, grabbing his forgotten coffee from this morning. It was cold as ice, but he popped it into the microwave in hopes that it would at least be drinkable once reheated. He wanted to get into research mode, but he didn't want to risk Dean walking out here on him doing so. The last thing he needed was for his mission to end before it even started. 

About five minutes later, Dean emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his hair dry with his towel. A wide smile immediately came to his lips when he saw his brother sitting on the edge of the bed with his laptop balanced on his thighs. Sam had come back – that was good. 

Dean dropped the towel he'd been using and immediately crawled onto the bed behind Sam, looking over his brother's shoulder. “Whatcha readin', Sammy?” Dean asked, voice almost a whisper as Dean pressed his lips to Sam's neck, nipping at his brother's skin. 

“The obits,” Sam answered, moving so that Dean's lips weren't on his neck. He may have had a momentary lapse of judgment the night before and allowed Dean to get sexual with him, but Sam was going to make sure that didn't happen again. At least not for a while. After all, he wasn't an idiot – he knew that if he didn't give Dean sex sometimes, Dean would realize there was a problem. But Sam could hold out for a few days, he was sure.

When Sam jerked away from him, Dean frowned deeply. He knew letting Sam go see Bobby had been a bad idea. Pouting, Dean flopped onto the mattress, shoving his arm under his pillow. “Why?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “Who cares who died today? We have better things to focus on.” He knew what Sam was doing. And he sure as hell wasn't interested in trying to find some damn hunt. They'd already burned enough daylight today because Sam had to go get his damn stuff. Now, they were already going to have to stay in this town one more night, and Dean was getting restless. He wanted to get back to their father. After all, there were a lot of hunters after them right now.

Unable to help himself, Sam rolled his eyes. “I care, Dean,” he argued, turning to look at his brother. Immediately, his cheeks heated at the sight of Dean sprawled out on the bed naked, little beads of water from his shower slowly drying on his tanned skin. He tried to ignore the way his own body reacted to the sight of Dean, but it was really hard. “What could you possibly have to focus on?” he asked instead. “You're just...laying there.”

One eye popped open to peer at Sam when the younger man spoke. It was obvious how his brother was affected by him, bringing a small smirk to Dean's lips. “Well...I was trying to focus on you,” he explained, hips lifting off the bed as he repositioned himself. “But you shot me down, so now I'm gonna relax until dinner. Don't get too engrossed in that computer, Sammy. We're not going on any hunts. We need to get back to Dad.”

There were so many things Sam wanted to say to Dean right now. How badly he wanted to go on a hunt so he could have some semblance of normal. How he wished that things were different. But he knew that Dean wasn't in the mood to talk about that. He'd made it very obvious that he didn't want to be saved. So, Sam focused on another one of his reservations at the moment. “Dean, what makes you think Dad even wants to see me?” Sam asked, biting into his bottom lip. “I mean, the last time I saw Dad – _really_ saw Dad – was the night I left for college. And I wasn't exactly his favorite person that night.”

A deep frown came to Dean's lips at Sam's question. “Sammy, don't think like that,” he tried to calm the younger man. “Of course he wants to see you! You're his son, Sam! He loves you!” Dean really couldn't fathom why Sam would think that John didn't want to see him. John Winchester loved his boys – they were the most important thing to him. “What makes you think he doesn't want to see you.”

It was an easy question. Sam didn't even have to think about an answer. “Dean, c'mon,” Sam chuckled humorlessly. “It's not like Dad and I ever really saw eye to eye. And he was pissed at me when I left for college. And then when he came back to hunt the demon, he called _you_. He didn't even acknowledge I was there, Dean. He specifically told you not to bring me.”

“Because he knows how you can be, Sammy,” Dean argued. “Dad was watching out for you. And ever since you left us, he's been doing nothing but try to find you!” Anger bubbled up inside Dean as he pushed himself into a seated position. “Don't you get why Dad told me to come alone? Because it was dangerous. And he didn't want you to get hurt! So we left you behind!”

Now, it was Sam's turn to get angry. “Oh, so he didn't care if you got hurt?!” Sam demanded. “Can't you see how messed up that is, Dean? You basically just told me that Dad didn't want me there because he didn't want me to get hurt, but he called you in anyway. You can't see how fucked up that is? Really?!”

Oh, Dean saw it. He just didn't care. Dean hadn't wanted Sam there either. It was his job to protect Sam, and that's what he was doing. “Yeah, well, he knows that I'm the better hunter, Sammy,” Dean jabbed. He smirked when Sam shot him one of his signature bitch faces. “Mmm, Sammy, you know I get all tingly when you look at me like that.”

When Dean crawled closer to him, Sam put the computer on the floor and pushed himself to his feet. “Stop it, Dean,” he warned. Apparently Dean being turned into a demon amped up his sex drive, which didn't bode well for Sam. Especially since his brother had been a sex demon before all of this happened. “I'm really not in the mood, alright?” 

Again, Dean rolled his eyes. “You were in the mood until you went to see Bobby!” Dean accused, unable to hide the anger in his voice. “What did he do to you, Sam?! Did he tell you not to trust me, or something?! Tell me!”

Now, it was Sam's turn to roll his eyes. “Dean, he didn't do anything to me!” Sam argued. “I just don't want to have sex right now, okay?! I'm trying to talk to you about something serious, and you can't even do that because you're too worried about your dick!” Sighing, Sam pressed his thumb and index finger against the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache he felt coming on. “Dean...I don't think I can do this.”

His anger quickly bled to panic when Sam told him he couldn't do this. “Do what?” Dean asked, bright green eyes staring a hole into his brother. “Come with me to find Dad? Be a family again? Be with me?” Dean wasn't letting Sam walk out on him again. There was no way. Sam was his, and Dean wasn't going to lose him again.

Sam shook his head, not really sure what he was trying to say. This morning, he thought he'd had this all figured out – he was going to cure his father and Dean from the inside. But staying here with Dean and acting like nothing was wrong was really taking its toll on him. And it had only been a day! Less, in fact. “Any of it, Dean,” Sam whispered. “I'm sorry...I can't.”

With that, Sam turned on his heels, heading to the door. Before he could pull the door open, however, Dean was behind him, palm pressed flat against the door. “Don't,” Dean bit out, body pressed so tightly against Sam's that he was sure his brother could feel every inch of him through his clothing. The night before, he'd kept Sam around with sex. And Dean was willing to use his body to his advantage again if that's what it took. “Please?”

The way his brother pleaded with him had Sam fighting back tears. “Dean, I can't,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against the door. He was hot – too hot. He didn't know what to do. He just knew that he needed to get out of here. He couldn't be here right now. “Dean...please, let me go.”

“No,” Dean argued, his fingers of his free hand curling around Sam's hip. “Look at me, Sammy,” he coaxed, trying to turn the younger man to face him. When Sam's back was pressed against the door, Dean frowned at the look of pure hurt on Sam's face. The last thing he wanted was to hurt his brother. “Sammy, c'mon baby, talk to me. What's wrong?”

What wasn't wrong would have been a better question. “Everything,” Sam whispered, shaking his head once more. He didn't know what to do. Dean was in his personal space, and he was so hot. He was being so attentive – so _Dean_ – and Sam didn't know what he wanted. “I just...I need to leave for a little while, okay? Please? Dean, I'll be back. I just need to clear my head.”

Although letting Sam walk out that door was the last thing Dean wanted right now, he knew that he needed to give the younger man what he needed. Leaning in, Dean pressed his lips to his brother's gently, trying to convey how much he wanted Sam in the action. “Promise me you'll come back,” Dean all but pleaded, forehead pressed against Sam's, their breaths mingling.

Again, Sam felt the tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. Dean looked so lost – scared that Sam wasn't going to come back. But he was. All of his stuff was here. “I promise, Dean,” Sam assured him. “I just need a minute. I'll be back later. I promise.”

Slowly, Dean pulled his hand away from the door, watching helplessly as his brother walked out of the door. Walked away from him again. And right now, he just had to trust that Sam wasn't lying to him and that he would be back.


	3. Chapter Three

It felt like hours had passed since Sam walked out that door. Of course, one quick look at the clock told Dean it had only been thirty minutes. Sure as hell didn't feel like it. His mind was playing tricks on him – making him think that Sam was leaving him again. Every few minutes, his eyes ticked to the clock, to the door, then back. 

Maybe he should go find Sam? The Impala was still in the parking lot, which meant Sam was on foot. Therefore, he couldn't have gotten far. If Dean left now, he could probably find the younger man without too much trouble. 

But Sam had asked for space. And if Dean just barged out after him, invading his space, then Sam would be upset with him. That was the last thing Dean wanted. He hated it when Sam was mad at him. It just made him feel like shit. Like he was doing something wrong. But he wasn't doing anything wrong here. He was just trying to get Sam back where he belonged – he just wanted Sam back, dammit!

Sighing, Dean crossed his arms over his chest, closing his eyes as he tried to relax into the mattress. He was going to give Sam some more time. If he wasn't back in an hour, Dean was going after him. End of discussion.

Forty five long, agonizing minutes later, Sam stumbled into the motel room. The door slammed behind him, causing the younger man to jump slightly. “Shhhh!” he shushed the door, chuckling at himself as he turned his attention to the bed. A wide smile came to his lips when he saw his brother sitting on the bed, ankles crossed as he watched Sam. “Hi Dean,” he greeted, waving like a goofball. 

One look at his brother, and Dean caught on real quick where Sam had been for the last hour and a half. “Found the bar up the street, I see,” Dean mused, eyes still locked on his brother. He couldn't help but roll his eyes when Sam replied with a mere _yep_. Any idiot could see that Sam was drunk off his ass. Dean wasn't sure if he should be pissed off or amused.

In the end, Dean decided that he was going to be amused. After all, Sam was adorable when he was drunk. And it was so much easier to pump the younger man for information when he had a nice buzz. Full blown drunkenness was going to get Dean whatever kind of information he wanted from the younger man. And he sure as hell had a lot of questions for his brother. 

Seeing that his brother was struggling with his shoe in an attempt to get it off, Dean pushed himself off the bed and moved toward the younger Winchester. “Here, let me help you,” Dean offered, one hand on Sam's waist as he used his free hand to tug the sneaker off his brother's foot. 

A goofy smile came to Sam's lips as he let out a happy giggle. His fingers wrapped around Dean's shoulder, squeezing gently. “Mmm...Dean...” he mumbled drunkenly. “Always takin' care of me.” And he really was. No matter what the circumstances were, Dean was always there ready to make sure Sam was alright. And for some reason, Sam just couldn't remember why that was a bad thing – he couldn't remember why he'd been running from Dean for so long.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. “Always doing whatever necessary to take care of you, Sammy.” Once he had the younger man's sneakers off, Dean led him to the bed where he gently shoved the younger man onto the mattress. “Can't believe you went out and got yourself drunk,” he complained. “What were you thinkin', Sammy? There are dangerous people out there in the world who would probably kill to have you incapacitated so they could take advantage of you.”

Another wide grin split over Sam's features when Dean spoke. “Mmm...maybe you should take advantage of me,” Sam suggested, fingers carding through Dean's short cropped hair. And damn if that didn't sound like the best use of their time right now. “C'mon, Dean,” he continued, leaning in close so their foreheads were pressed together. “You want me?”

At Sam's question, Dean merely looked at him like he was insane. Did he want him? Of course, Dean wanted him! But Sam was drunk right now, and Dean wasn't too keen on the idea of dealing with Sam in the morning when he wasn't being a happy drunk. “You know I do,” Dean assured his little brother. “But you're drunk. And you won't feel the same way about this in the morning as you do now.”

Sam's face scrunched with a mixture of confusion and anger when Dean unraveled himself from Sam's embrace. “Don't tell me how I feel,” Sam argued, shaking his head. “I'm the only person who knows how I feel, Dean. And right now, I feel like this bed is big...and it's empty without you. So c'mere.”

Again, Sam reached for Dean, his fingers grasping any part of his brother he could get his hands on. His fingers curled around Dean's left shoulder and his right bicep as he tugged Dean further onto the bed. But Dean wasn't having any part of it. “Dean...stop it,” Sam complained, his voice that same whiny tone that would always drive Dean wild when they were making out in the motel just one bedroom away from their father. 

When Dean didn't help Sam get him onto the bed, Sam huffed, wrapping his leg around Dean's and applying pressure just behind the older Winchester's knees. That got Dean off kilter enough for Sam to jerk on his arm and shoulder hard enough to get him onto the bed with him. “Why are you being like this?” Sam pouted, fingers once again carding through Dean's hair. “Want me. I won't be mad in the morning. I pr'mise.”

It was becoming painfully evident that Sam wasn't going to give up on his pursuit. Dean could feel the hard line of his brother's cock pressing against his abdomen where their bodies were pressed tightly together thanks to the leg Sam had hooked around Dean's waist. He was almost one hundred percent positive that Sam was unwittingly lying right now, but he wasn't going to make a big deal about it. Instead, Dean was going to enjoy it. “You promise, Sammy?” he breathed, bright green eyes staring down into, dazed, unfocused hazels.

Without hesitation, Sam nodded frantically. “Promise, D'n,” Sam slurred, chuckling once more when his brother pushed his long bangs out of his face. “Want you,” he muttered, his own fingers moving to trace over Dean's facial features. “Missed you so much.”

That was all Dean needed to make a move. His hand tightened in Sam's hair, holding the younger man at the angle he wanted him as his lips crushed against Sam's. The younger Winchester's moans were swallowed up in the kiss, Dean using his free hand to shove Sam's legs further apart to accommodate his body better. Dean captured Sam's bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled back, forcing Sam to follow him. “Tell me you want me,” Dean ordered, eyes growing dark with lust.

“Want you,” Sam complied, allowing his upper body to fall back against the bed as soon as Dean let him go. His head was fuzzy and he couldn't really feel his face, but he knew what was about to happen. And he was welcoming it. “Clothes...” Sam breathed, brows knit with determination as he shoved at Dean's T-shirt. 

Taking pity on Sam's pathetic attempt to strip him of his clothing, Dean quickly took the offending fabric off his chest, revealing his body to Sam's hungry, wandering eyes. He wasted no time as he yanked Sam's jacket off his body, tossing it against the wall in the far corner of the room. Dean then did the same with Sam's shirt and his jeans, leaving the younger man in nothing but his underwear under Dean's body.

Immediately, Sam's hands moved to drunkenly grope at Dean's skin. His fingers fiddled with the waistband of Dean's boxer briefs, unable to get them off in his current state of mind. “Dean,” he whined, one large hand moving to fist his brother through his clothes. “Please...Dean...want all of you. No clothes...please?”

He couldn't help but smile down at his brother while Sam made a useless attempt to get his clothes off. And for a minute, Dean just let Sam suffer – he deserved it after what he did to him tonight. However, when Sam's hand pressed against his crotch, Dean was gone. With an almost animalistic growl, Dean shoved Sam's hand away from him, quickly stripping the cotton off his body before he moved to do the same to Sam.

Once they were both naked, Dean plastered his body against his brother's again. A wide smirk came to his lips when Sam moaned loudly against his ear, Sam's hands moving to cup the sides of Dean's neck as he maneuvered him as best as he could so their lips crushed together. His hips rolled against his younger brother's, dragging another delicious moan from Sam. “Feels good, doesn't it baby?” Dean whispered against Sam's lips, nipping at the bottom one once more.

The only response Dean got was another moan from the younger Winchester. Sam's hands gripped Dean's shoulder blades, short, blunt nails leaving little half moon shapes in his brother's skin. He gasped softly when he felt Dean's cold, slick finger pressing against his hole. Sam didn't know when his brother had managed to grab the lube, but he sure as hell was grateful, the younger man allowing his legs to fall open to give Dean better access. “D'n,” Sam slurred once more, lifting his hips to supply as much contact as possible. “Please?”

“Shh, I gotcha baby,” Dean promised, sliding his finger past the first knuckle inside his brother. “Gonna take care of you. Always take care of you, Sammy.” After a minute, Dean pressed a second finger alongside his first, biting into his bottom lip as Sam's tight heat wrapped around his digits. Damn, his brother was so sexy. “So tight Sammy,” Dean praised, smiling when Sam began falling apart underneath him as he scissored his fingers inside the younger man. 

After what felt like forever, Dean added a third finger and Sam couldn't take it anymore. “Dean, please, need you,” Sam begged, nipping at the shell of the older man's ear where he could reach. “Please...fuck me, Dean. Please?”

Sam begging was the greatest sound Dean had ever heard. “Damn, Sammy, yes,” he breathed, slowly pulling his fingers from his little brother's body. Grabbing the bottle of lube, Dean squirted a liberal amount into his hand, coating his cock. Satisfied with the work he'd done, Dean shoved his brother's legs apart so he could once again situate himself in the open space. “Ready baby?”

It took everything in him not to roll his eyes when Dean asked if he was ready. “Yes, D'n, 'lease?” Sam slurred, nodding emphatically. His head tossed back to press against the pillow as Dean slowly pushed himself inside his prepared body. “D'n...” Sam moaned, hands grappling to hold onto Dean as soon as his brother bottomed out against him and laid over his brother's body once more. 

As Dean waited for Sam's body to adjust, he showered Sam's neck and shoulders with kisses and barely there nips. Only when he heard Sam complain that he wanted him to move did Dean slowly pull his hips back just a fraction of an inch. He wasn't about to make this fast – he wanted Sam to suffer a little bit before he was able to get pleasure. That would teach him for being an idiot and walking out when Dean told him to stay here.

The minute Dean started moving, Sam knew his brother didn't plan on making this easy for him. But Sam knew all of Dean's trick – all of his weaknesses. And he knew all of the buttons to push to get what he wanted. At least he had before a demon had gone and turned his brother into something he wasn't. 

But Sam wasn't going to think about that right now. He was going to focus on the pleasure Dean was giving him. Hooking one leg around Dean's waist, Sam pressed his foot against his brother's ass, trying to egg Dean on to move faster. Of course, Dean caught on to what he was doing real quick and put a stop to it, causing Sam to huff. “Dean, c'mon,” he whined. “Please...need you. Faster...harder, D'n, please?”

While that sounded like a good time, Dean wasn't ready to get there yet. “I thought you liked it slow and steady, Sammy,” Dean teased. He couldn't help but chuckle at the bitch face Sam shot him – Dean loved that look. “Don't gimme that look, Sammy,” Dean chastised, rolling his hips. His smile grew when Sam's face twisted into a look of pure pleasure. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

And Sam knew he wasn't lying. But he wanted Dean to make him feel good without teasing him, too. Pressing his foot against the mattress, Sam wrapped his arm around Dean and rolled, forcing the older man onto his back as he unsteadily balanced himself on top of Dean. “M'gonna make _you_ feel good,” Sam giggled, his large fingers curling around his brother's perky nipples.

When Sam rolled them so that he was on top, Dean allowed it. Sure, he wanted to be able to torture Sam for a little while, but he wasn't about to let this moment go to waste. His hands moved to grip Sam's hips, helping to steady the younger man. “Whoa, easy tiger,” Dean chuckled. “If you fall off and break my dick, we won't be having any fun for a while, baby.”

“M'not gonna break your dick,” Sam assured his brother with a small chuckle. “I'll be gentle, Dean.” He bit his bottom lip as he slowly started rocking his hips, wanting to tease his brother a little bit like Dean had been doing to him. However, it didn't last long – Sam was too horny to tease his brother. And Dean's hands on his hips were very demanding, helping Sam to move at the pace that Dean wanted him to move. 

He honestly hated that Dean could make him feel good – but he loved it at the same time. He knew this was wrong – in the back of his mind, he knew that he shouldn't be enjoying the feel of his brother inside of him. But he couldn't help it. Sam wanted Dean – and there was no denying himself when he was drunk. Sure, he would probably hate himself in the morning, but he wasn't stopping this tonight.

His hands moved to press palm flat against his brother's pectoral muscles, Sam's fingers curling around Dean's skin as he bounced up and down with the help of the hold Dean had on him. “Ungh...Dean,” Sam moaned, head tossed back in pleasure as he rode his brother.

Having Sam on top was nice for a while, but they'd done this last night. And Dean wasn't in the mood to let his little brother lead all of the time. One hand snaked up behind Sam's back, pressing between his shoulder blades to hold him in place as Dean rolled them so Sam was on his back once more. “My turn, Sammy,” Dean breathed, biting into the soft flesh of his brother's shoulder. His hips pistoned inside his brother, forcing Sam to press his hand against the wall behind him so that he didn't hit his head on the headboard. Dean was setting a brutal pace, but Sam wasn't complaining, so he figured the younger man was okay with it. 

Soft moans and groans spilled from Sam's throat as his brother drove his cock into Sam's body. “D'n,” Sam moaned, head thrashing on the pillow beneath him. “God...D'n...so good.” His free hand moved to grope at Dean's shoulder once more, Sam's nails digging into Dean's skin again in an attempt to get Dean impossibly closer to him. He wasn't going to last much longer at this rate. “D'n...gonna cum...D'n...please?”

For the second time that night, Dean was made aware of how damn much he liked it when Sam begged for him. “Yeah, Sammy,” Dean encouraged, nipping at his brother's strong jaw. “Cum for me, baby.” A few more thrusts of his hips, and Sam was doing just that. His back bowed off the bed, pressing his body closer to Dean's as his other hand came up to hold on for dear life alongside the first. The moans spilling from Sam's mouth were like Dean's own personal porno, the demon continuing to pound into his brother as he chased his own orgasm.

Dean barely remembered to roll off of his brother when he finally came, collapsing onto the bed beside the younger Winchester. He couldn't help the smile that came to his lips when his brother rolled onto his side, snuggling up against Dean's body. Damn, he'd forgotten how much of a clingy drunk his brother could be. Gently, Dean allowed his fingers to comb through Sam's hair, knowing the younger man liked it. 

After a few minutes, Dean could hear the soft snores coming from his brother, letting him know that Sam was sleeping. Sighing, Dean pushed himself out of the bed, grabbing his T-shirt on the way to the kitchen where he had some left over pizza in the fridge. Using his shirt to wipe off the mess Sam had left on his belly, Dean quickly grabbed two slices of pizza and a bottle of beer. 

Food and alcohol in hand, Dean moved to the bed where Sam was sleeping, climbing under the covers with the younger man. He then grabbed Sam's laptop, pulling up the internet. It was easy to get to Sam's browsing history, Dean frowning as he read through the obituaries that Sam had tagged. There were a lot of potential cases in this area – not that Dean was interested. 

Sighing, Dean browsed through a few more pages, figuring Sam had erased his history from the previous days since it went blank before the obituaries. Once he finished off his food, Dean tossed the laptop onto the ground and turned on the television. Sam was going to be out for the rest of the night, Dean was sure, so he needed something to keep him company.

**~~**

The following morning when Sam woke up, he felt like shit. His head hurt, and his mouth was so dry it felt like he'd been sucking on cotton all night. A small amount of sun was shining through the curtain, and it made Sam's eyes hurt. He immediately hated himself for whatever stupid decision he'd made to go get blackout drunk the night before. 

Slowly, Sam cracked one eye open, glancing around the room as much as he could without letting Dean know that he was awake. Dean was in the bed with him, his back pressed against the headboard, two pillows separating him from the hard wood. Which explains why Sam had a kink in his neck – jerk. 

“Morning, sleepy head,” Dean greeted, a small smirk on his lips when Sam jumped. The younger man had been trying so hard not to let Dean know he was awake. And if Dean wasn't in such a hurry to get the hell out of this town, Dean may have given his brother more time to wake up. But he knew that Sam was probably going to complain that he wanted to take a shower, which was an hour wasted right there, if not more. “How are you feeling, Sammy?”

Cover blown, Sam rolled onto his back, not comfortable with the close proximity that he was in with Dean right now. “Head hurts,” Sam mumbled, throwing his arm over his eyes so the light wasn't shining directly into them. “Need coffee. And a hot shower.”

Typical Sam – always wanting a shower and coffee after a night of drinking. “Well, up and at 'em, baby,” Dean ordered, slapping his brother's arm. “I'll go get your coffee while you shower,” he offered. “We need to be on the road by ten, Sam. We're not staying in this town another night. Dad's waiting for us.”

That same pit settled in Sam's gut when Dean said they were going to meet their father again. Sam didn't want to. John had been impossible to deal with when he had been human. He and Sam had always been butting heads – they'd never seen eye to eye. And now that he was demon, Sam was sure that would only be intensified. And there was no telling how much more terrible his father's temper had become when he'd turned into a demon. It had already been bad enough, as far as Sam was concerned.

Hearing Dean call for him, Sam raised his arm just enough so that he could look at Dean. “C'mon, Sammy, quit goofing off,” Dean instructed. “If you're not showered by the time I get back, you'll sit in the car all day while we drive with my cum leaking outta your fine ass. Don't test me.” And Dean wasn't going to think too long on how sexy that thought was. 

Sam hated that he'd allowed Dean to have sex with him again the previous night. Hell, he'd practically begged for it, if he was remembering correctly. But he wasn't going to talk about it. They didn't need to relive that moment. Sam just wanted to take a shower and wash away the evidence of his brother's body on his. So much for his plan to make Dean wait as long as he possibly could. 

About an hour later, Sam was showered, dressed, and Dean was loading all of their bags into the Impala. Dean had gotten Sam one of the frappuccinos from the coffee shop he liked, which was really nice of him. Of course, Dean had expected a kiss as payment, but Sam wasn't going to complain too much about that. The frappuccino was really good, after all.

The whole car ride to wherever the hell Dean was dragging them – he wouldn't tell him because it was apparently a surprise – was done in almost total silence. It wasn't making Sam feel any better about this situation. He still wasn't convinced that John was as excited to see him as Dean was making out. And if he wasn't, then Sam wanted out of here. He would have liked to think he could trust Dean to be on his side if it came down to it, but honestly, he wasn't sure. 

Somewhere along the line, Sam fell asleep. And before he knew it, Dean was shaking him awake. As he blinked his eyes open, Sam took everything he could in – they were in a motel parking lot that looked to be empty save for the large black truck parked in the spot next to the Impala. “Where are we?” Sam asked, pushing himself to sit up straighter in the seat. And damn, his neck hurt even worse now.

“Little town just outside of Pennsylvania,” Dean answered, a small smile on his lips. His hand moved to rub at Sam's shoulder. “You okay, baby? You look uncomfortable. Probably shouldn't have let you sleep for so long. You know how your neck gets, Sammy.”

Sam's heart was beating so loudly in his chest that he was sure Dean could hear it. When Dean's hand landed on his shoulder, it took everything Sam had in him not to jump at the contact. “Are we staying here?” Sam asked, scared eyes ticking to his brother. He had to admit that Dean's massaging motions felt really good. “Y-Yeah...my neck hurts,” he confirmed.

A wide smile came to Dean's lips when Sam confirmed his suspicions. Damn, he wanted to get Sam into a bed and run his hands over every inch of his body. That would make Sam forget all about the pain in his neck, Dean was sure. But they had different matters to attend to right now. “Yes, we're gonna stay here, Sammy,” Dean assured his brother. “We're meeting Dad.”

And just like that, Sam's heart started beating even faster. “Dad's here?” Sam asked, biting into his bottom lip as he unconsciously leaned into Dean's hand a little further. “In this motel? We-We're staying with Dad here, then?”

It was becoming very clear to Dean that Sam was having a problem with this plan right now. Why, Dean had no idea, but he was going to get to the bottom of this. “Well, if you want the three of us to cram into one bed, then sure,” Dean chuckled. “But I was thinking you and I could get our own room. You know...so Dad doesn't have to listen to you scream my name every night.” Dean leaned in to nip at Sam's throat when he said the last part, chuckling when his brother swatted him away.

Dealing with Dean's libido was really becoming a problem for Sam. “Dean, stop it,” Sam grumbled, frowning deeply at the older man. “Not everything is about sex, Dean.” He didn't know why he was being so rude to Dean, but he knew that he just wanted to get out of here. This was too soon. Sam wasn't ready to see John. He wasn't sure he would ever be ready.

Anger bubbled up inside Dean when Sam slapped him away. “What's your problem, Sam?” Dean asked, his grip on Sam's shoulder tightening. “You're acting all damn weird, and I don't get it. So spill. You've been this way since last night. And we don't need you running off and getting yourself shit faced drunk again. Am I right?”

If he was being honest with himself, Sam really hated Dean right now for bringing up his bad decisions. “Yeah, you're right,” Sam assured his brother, glaring at the older man. “Wouldn't want you to _rape_ me again.” He could see the way his brother's facial expression changed at his words, but he knew that it was too late to take it back. And maybe that was for the best. He wanted out, and making Dean mad was probably the fastest way to get that done. 

Dean was doing everything in his power not to lose his cool right now. “Rape you?” Dean asked, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Please, Sam, you were _begging_ for it. I didn't fucking rape you. I just gave you what you wanted.”

While that was true, Sam wasn't going to let Dean get off the hook right now. “Dean, I was _drunk_!” Sam argued. “I wasn't even coherent enough to know what I was doing. And I don't even remember any of it today. That's not what I wanted.” Shaking his head, Sam added, “You should have been protecting me, Dean. Not just taking advantage of me.” He knew that would get his brother's blood boiling. And that's what he needed.

“Oh, I took care of you, alright,” Dean assured the younger man. “And you loved every second of it.” Moving his hand from Sam's shoulder to his chin, Dean forced the younger man to look at him. “Now what's really bothering you, Sam? Because I know it's not the fact that you and I had sex last night.” Eyes searching Sam's face, Dean looked for any kind of sign from his brother. “Is it Dad?” he asked, finally putting two and two together. “You're still worried he won't be happy to see you.”

Honestly, Sam should have known that Dean would figure it out. His brother was too smart for his own good. “Dean,” Sam started, giving his head a small shake. “What if he doesn't? You're so sure that he wants to be a family again, but I'm not. He was pissed the last time I saw him. And who's to say he isn't still pissed, Dean?!”

Moving his hand to cup Sam's cheek instead of hold his chin roughly, Dean made sure to keep eye contact with his brother. “Sammy, you just gotta trust me,” he answered, leaning in to press his lips to Sam's. He then pulled back, swatting Sam's chest happily. “C'mon Sammy, he's waiting for us.”

Although Sam wasn't too keen on the idea of leaving this car without some real proof, he knew he wasn't going to get any right now. Not without seeing the older Winchester himself. And if Dean wanted him to trust him, Sam would – even if it probably wasn't the smartest idea in the world since his brother was now a demon. But Dean hadn't done anything to make him feel like he would lie yet.

As he pushed himself out of the car, Sam felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest once more. It was like his body was on high alert – ready for a fight. He made sure to stick close to Dean as they walked to the door with the number 6 on it. When Dean knocked on the door, Sam felt like his breath had been stolen from his lungs.

He moved closer to Dean as the door opened, that small part of his brain remembering that when he was a kid and he was scared, all he had to do was hide behind big brother and everything would be okay. Maybe the same was true for when they were adults. 

When the door opened, John Winchester ushered the two of them into the room, quickly closing the door behind them. His eyes immediately landed on Sam, a small smile coming to his lips. “Hi Sammy,” he greeted, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Hi Dad,” Sam greeted shakily, not really sure where this was going. However, when John moved to close the gap between them and wrapped Sam up into a hug, Sam gasped softly, not sure what to do at first. His eyes ticked to Dean as he wrapped his arms around his father, holding on as though his life depended on it. God, he needed to save them.


	4. Chapter Four

Sam should have just listened to Dean in the first place, and he would have spared himself a lot of anxiety. Turns out, their father was more than happy to see him. As a matter f fact, John actually wanted them to be a family again – just like Dean had said. Hell, he was acting more like a father than he had in years. Honestly, Sam was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There was no way something this good was happening to him. Not to Sam – he had the worst luck.

He sighed as he stared at his computer screen, not sure exactly what he was looking for, but knowing that in order to find it, he needed to start somewhere. A cure – that was still on the table. He needed to figure out how to make his father and his brother human again. And he wasn't going to stop until he did. Of course, with two of them now, he knew that he had to be more careful. After all, while Dean didn't really question a lot about what he was doing on a daily basis, John Winchester did nothing but question him. 

So when the door opened to reveal his father walking into their room, Sam quickly logged out of the web pages he'd been in and pulled up the obituaries once again. “Hey Dad,” Sam greeted, smiling tightly at the older man. “I...didn't expect to see you in here.” Tossing the computer onto the floor by the bed, Sam scooted to the edge, offering John a seat. “Where's Dean?”

Taking the seat offered to him, John glanced around the room before his eyes landed on Sam. “He went to get us some grub,” John answered. “I figured you boys had a long drive down here and you were hungry.” Scooting closer to Sam, John continued, “And I wanted a few minutes alone with you, Sammy.”

A deep frown came to Sam's lips when his father told him he wanted alone time. Well, that didn't sound all that appealing. Sam didn't want to let on to the fact that he was trying to find a cure. And he knew that John was a lot nosier than Dean. Usually, when Dean asked questions, Sam would just distract him with sex. It wasn't like he could really do that with his father. “Uh...yeah, sure,” Sam muttered, smiling once more. “What's up?”

“I just wanted to apologize for the things I said when you left for college,” John explained. “I was out of line. And you didn't deserve to be spoken to like that. And I'm sorry, Sammy.” Placing his hand on his son's shoulder, John continued, “I want you to know that I kept tabs on you. While you were at college, I would read up on you whenever I could. And sometimes I would swing by to check on you. I'd never let you know I was there, but I was. I was looking out for you. I've missed you, son.”

When John explained that he'd been watching out for Sam the whole time he'd been gone, Sam felt a lump in his throat. Never in a million years did he think he'd hear his father apologize for anything. Yet, here he was doing just that. Sam felt tears well up behind his eyes, the younger man giving his father a curt nod. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “I, uh, I really appreciate that. But uh...maybe you were right. I mean, if I hadn't left, then Jessica would still be alive. And you and Dean...well, you know.”

Now, it was John's turn to frown. “Sammy, what happened to me and Dean isn't your fault,” he assured his son. “And neither is what happened to Jessica. Besides, we're better like this, Sammy. We know what we're doing. You don't have to worry about us.” 

Unable to hold back his snort of disbelief, Sam let it out. “Yeah, you're better this way,” Sam bit out. What planet had he woken up on? John Winchester was telling him that they were better this way?! And he expected Sam to just believe him?! That was never going to happen. “You're not better this way! And I'm gonna do whatever it takes to make sure you don't stay this way, Dad. I promise – I'm going to save you guys.”

Again, John frowned when Sam told him his plan. He had kind of figured that Sam would try to _fix_ them, as he'd called it. But John had other plans. Of course, he wasn't going to tell Sam those plans. After all, the last thing he needed was for Sam to try to talk Dean out of it. Hell, John wasn't 100% convinced that Sam _couldn't_ talk Dean out of it. Dean had assured John that he was on his side, but when it came to Sam, his eldest son seemed to have a blind spot. And John didn't need to take any chances.

Sighing softly, John placed his hand on his son's knee. “Sammy, you don't have to do anything,” John assured him. “Dean and I have it all figured out. I know he probably told you that I want you back with us. Hunting with us. Back in the family business, son.”

Slowly, Sam nodded, letting the older man know they'd talked about it. “Yeah, he told me,” Sam answered. “But he also made it very clear that he wasn't interested in hunting anymore. So I don't really know what you want from me. I mean...you're telling me that you want me to hunt with you, and he's telling me we don't do that anymore.”

While it was true Dean and John hadn't been doing the same kind of hunting that Sam was used to, they still hunted. Like right now, even as they were speaking, John was hunting for the Devil's Gate. If he could find it before Azazel managed to get his little soldiers up and running, then he considered that a win. And when they released Lucifer, they were going to make sure he had a vessel other than Sam. Because Dean was never going to let that happen. “Don't worry, Sammy,” John tried to placate once more. “Dean and I have it figured out.”

The truth was written all over Sam's face, though the younger man merely smiled at him. He could tell that his son wasn't convinced, so he did the only thing he could think of at the moment. It was something that always seemed to help Sam relax when he was younger – he tickled his son. 

Sam's eyes widened when John started poking his fingers into his sides. Quickly, Sam rolled in an attempt to get away from his father, but John rolled with him, and before he knew it, John was tickling the life out of him. “Dad, stop!” Sam laughed, trying to shove his father's hands away from him. “Please...I can't...breathe!” Tears rolled down Sam's cheeks as he laughed harder than he had in over a year. “Dad!”

The sound of the door slamming brought both Winchesters back to their senses. “Dean,” John greeted, shooting Sam another smile before he pushed himself off the bed and headed to the door. “That was fast, son. Did you get the beers?” He smirked when Dean lifted the six pack in his right hand. “That's my boy.”

Taking his bag of food and 2 beers, John turned his attention to Sam once more. “It was nice talking to you, Sammy,” he smiled before he looked back at Dean. “You and Dean have a lot to talk about, I'm sure. I'll be in my room if either of you need me.” With that, John headed out of the room, leaving Sam and Dean alone once more. 

A small frown came to Sam's lips when his father left the room. “What was that about?” Sam asked, his frown deepening when his brother merely shrugged. There was something Dean wasn't telling him, and Sam wasn't going to put up with that. If Dean was keeping secrets, then Sam wasn't going to be able to trust him. And if that was the case, Sam was going to leave. “Dean, come on, you're not telling me something. Dad said we had a lot to talk about? But we've been with each other for the last 48 hours non-stop. What could there possibly be left to talk about?”

As if he hadn't heard a word Sam said, Dean moved to the table, setting his food down and rifling through the bags. He placed Sam's meal on the table and then his own, taking a seat and digging in. “Sammy, we can talk after dinner. It's gonna get cold.” Popping a fry into his mouth, Dean pouted. “No one likes cold fries, baby.”

While Sam wasn't too thrilled about waiting until after they'd eaten to get the information out of his brother, Sam knew that Dean was right. The last time Sam had made Dean wait to eat his fries, they had been cold – Sam had to hear about it for three weeks before Dean finally let up. And that had been before Dean was a demon. Now, Dean might drag it out longer just for fun. So, Sam took a seat across from Dean, smiling slightly as he took the beer Dean offered to him.

About forty minutes later, Sam was ready to talk. Dean was on his third beer, and Sam was still nursing his first – he didn't need a repeat of the last time he and Dean had been in a motel room together all night. “Dean, c'mon,” Sam started, shoving his take out containers into the bag and pushing it aside. “Tell me what Dad was talking about.”

Immediately, Dean's mood changed. He didn't want to talk about this right now. He and Sam were having such a nice evening, and John was here trying to ruin it. “What did he tell you, Sammy?” Dean asked, wanting to know how much his little brother knew. 

“Well...he told me that he wanted us to be a family,” Sam answered. “He wanted us to hunt things together. Get back in the family business. But you told me that we weren't hunting anymore. So...who's lying to me?” Sam hated being so unsure. He hated being lied to. “Dean, tell me the truth. Please?”

Dean hated that John had taken this away from him. Sure, he knew they were on a time constraint, but he wanted to break this to Sam slowly. After all, Dean wasn't expecting Sam to just say yes and call it a night. No, now Dean was going to have to do some major damage control. “We're not hunting like you're used to, baby,” Dean explained. “Dad and I have a bead on what Azazel's doing next. So, we're tracking him and his movements. We're trying to find his end game before he has a chance to regroup and get all of his ducks in a row. And...we just want your help.”

This didn't make any sense. “So...you're hunting a demon?” Sam asked, brows knit in confusion when Dean nodded. “And you didn't think I would help you?” Chuckling humorlessly, Sam shook his head. “Of course I'll help you hunt this demon, Dean. It's kind of what we do. Where do we start? Get me up to speed, Dean.”

Well, that was a lot easier than Dean had anticipated. And he thought about keeping it at that for a minute. But he didn't want to lie to Sam. So, he elaborated. “Sammy, I need to tell you about this before you get all invested. You don't know the whole story.” When Sam told him to just spit it out, Dean chuckled. Yeah, if only it were that easy. “Listen Sammy, this demon, it wants you. Apparently, you're one of its _special children_ or some shit.”

When Dean spoke, Sam's face immediately fell. “What?” Sam breathed, brows knit in confusion. “S-So, this...Azazel...it's the yellow eyed demon?” Dean nodded. “And he wants me?” Again, Dean nodded. “For what? I don't know anything. And I sure as hell won't help him with any plans he may have for me.”

Quickly, Dean nodded, “I know Sammy,” he assured the younger man. “Listen, alright? I know what he wants with you, and you're not going to like it.” He quieted his brother when Sam started asking more questions. “I'll tell you everything you want to know, alright? But you have to promise not to freak out, Sammy. I mean it! I know how you can get. I know that when you get mad, you tend to run off half-cocked and do something stupid. You can't do that right now. It's too dangerous.”

Sam hated that his brother knew him so well sometimes. “Alright, Dean, I promise,” Sam answered with a nod. “Just...tell me what you know. I have a right to know what this thing wants from me.” When Dean hesitated, Sam scoffed. “Dean, _tell me_. I already said I wouldn't run off. I promise I won't run off, alright?!”

Although Sam promised, Dean still wasn't too convinced. But, he was going to give his brother the benefit of the doubt. “Okay Sam,” he nodded. “I'll tell you what you wanna know. Just...sit down. On the bed with me.” He led Sam to the bed, pushing him to sit on the mattress before he took a seat beside him, Dean making sure to keep his hands on Sam in case the younger man decided to back out on his promise and bolt.

Dean didn't even know where to start. “Azazel has other kids like you, Sam,” Dean began. “He wants to take you away and put you in some ghost town with a few of these kids and he wants you all to kill each other until there's just one left. That one will be his soldier for the coming war. And when his team wins the war, he's going to let Lucifer walk free. But Lucifer is going to need a vessel – that's what his special kids are for. Just meat suits for Lucifer.”

His breath immediately kicked up as he listened to Dean speak about Azazel's plans for him. Lucifer's vessel – so that's why Sam had these visions? That's why he was different? All for some master plan so Lucifer could wear him to Prom? That was never going to happen. Sam would make sure of that. “I don't...that'll never happen, Dean,” Sam assured his brother.

“I know it won't,” Dean promised. “I wouldn't let it. This thing isn't getting it's filthy hands on you, Sammy. I'm going to make sure of it.” Of course, John and Dean had a plan. They'd been getting things in order for a while now. Ever since John caught wind of Azazel's master plan. Though Dean knew Sam wasn't going to like their plan either, but it was better than nothing. And it would save Sam in the end. “Dad and I have a plan, Sam.”

When Dean mentioned a plan, Sam's eyes lifted to his brother's. He could tell from the expression on Dean's face that he wasn't going to like it, but he was willing to hear Dean out. “Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this plan?” Sam asked, biting into his bottom lip.

Shrugging, Dean answered, “You probably won't like it. But it's the best we have right now, Sam.” Again, Dean sighed, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into his brother's wrist. “If we take you out of the equation so he can't get to you, maybe this will never happen. We go find his other children, and we gank them, too. Without his precious little soldiers, he can't set the bastard free.”

A deep frown came to Sam's lips when Dean told him the plan. “Kill people?” Sam asked, quickly shaking his head. “No, Dean! We don't kill people! We're the good guys, remember?! At least we used to be!” When Dean tried to explain himself, Sam quickly yanked his hand out of Dean's, pushing himself off the bed. “No, Dean! I don't want to hear it! I'm not helping you kill people! I'm not a murderer! If we do this, then we're no better than any other demon out there!”

Anger bubbled up inside Dean when Sam commented on demons. “I _am_ a demon!” Dean reminded, shoving himself off the bed as well. His eyes bled to black as he stalked toward Sam. “Or did you forget that, Sam?” He continued to walk toward Sam, not missing the way the younger man took a step back with each move Dean made.

Forget? How the hell was Sam supposed to forget his brother was a demon?! “I didn't forget,” Sam assured his brother. “How could I, Dean? You seem to like reminding me that you're not the brother I fell in love with.” He gasped softly when his back hit the door, Sam jumping when Dean slammed his hand against the door beside Sam's head. “I'm not helping you kill innocent humans!”

He was pissed. Dean could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. His brother seemed to like pushing all of his buttons. “Innocent humans?” Dean scoffed. “You don't even know what you're talking about, Sam! Have you met these people? No, you haven't. You remember the last one we met, don't you? What was his name? Mike? Matt?”

“Max,” Sam breathed, eyes falling to the floor. “Yeah, Dean, I remember him. And he _was_ innocent! He needed help! Too bad we were too late to give him the help he needed. But he wasn't a monster! And he didn't deserve to die!”

Apparently, Sam hadn't done all of his research. If he had, then he would know by now why the children had these special abilities. “Sammy, do you know why it is that you can do what you do?” Dean asked, smiling at the confused look on his brother's face. “Did you think you were just born with that...psychic ability you have?” Again, he chuckled when Sam looked at him with confused, hazel eyes. “Oh, baby, no. It was given to you, Sammy. By Azazel.”

Nausea hit Sam like a truck. No, this wasn't possible. “What do you mean?” Sam asked, shaking his head. “How...did he give it to me?” All of these years, Sam just thought he was born different. He figured the demon had known that and that was why he'd come into his room that night. But if Dean was telling the truth, Sam was wrong. “Dean...tell me. Please?”

It was clear on Sam's face that this new information had him feeling a little sick. But when Sam begged, there was nothing Dean couldn't give him. “That night when Azazel came into your room baby, he stood over your crib...and he bled into your mouth.”

 _He bled into your mouth_ – Sam couldn't make the words stop repeating in his head. Over and over it played like a broken record, making his stomach sink with each syllable. Slowly, Sam shook his head, fighting back tears. “You mean...that means...I have _demon blood_ in me?” Sam whispered, feeling himself break inside.

Without hesitation, Dean nodded. “Yeah, Sammy, you do,” he smiled. Leaning in, Dean pressed his face into the crook of Sam's neck, breathing deeply. “It's nothing to be ashamed of, Sam. It makes you stronger.” Slowly, Dean flicked his tongue out, allowing it to run from Sam's shoulder up to his ear lobe. “Taste so good, Sammy.”

He hadn't been paying attention to Dean after he confirmed that Sam had demon blood in him, so when Dean ran his tongue over his throat, Sam jumped. “Don't,” he whispered, his hand coming up to push at Dean's shoulder. “Stop...I can't...I need..space, Dean.”

Before Sam could add any more strength behind his shove, Dean reached up and gripped Sam's wrist, forcing the younger man's hand down his body and between his legs. “No, you don't,” Dean assured his brother. “You need me. Only me. I can make you feel good. Make you realize this is a good thing, Sammy.” Slowly, Dean rolled his hips, shoving his hard cock deeper into his brother's palm. “Let me show you, baby.”

A good thing? Dean was definitely not thinking with a full deck here. “Dean...” Sam whispered, biting into his bottom lip to stifle the moan that wanted to break from his throat. He hated this – hated that Dean could turn him on with just one little action. It was like he was fifteen all over again and he had absolutely no control over his own body. 

Fuck it. He needed a distraction from this new, disturbing piece of information anyway. Growling softly, Sam pulled his hand from Dean's as his free hand shot downward between their bodies, fingers working on the fastenings of his brother's jeans. He had Dean's pants open in record time, Sam's hand shoving down the front as his fingers closed around Dean's hard member. When Dean gripped his chin and forced their mouths together, Sam immediately opened for Dean, sucking his brother's tongue into his mouth as he moaned once more.

Roughly, Dean gripped Sam's gray T-shirt, ripping it down the middle before he shoved the tattered remains of fabric off Sam's body. His hands groped at every inch of Sam's newly bared flesh, Dean breaking the kiss only long enough to drag oxygen into his lungs before he was attacking the younger man's mouth once more. 

It was desperate and sloppy, both Winchester's just taking what they needed from the other. Their clothes were off in record time, Sam walking Dean back to the bed before he shoved the older man onto his back, smirking as Dean bounced onto the mattress. Without giving Dean a chance to move, Sam crawled on top of him, long legs bracketing Dean's hips as he blanketed Dean's body with his own, lips crushing against Dean's once more. 

When the kiss broke, Sam pressed his lips against Dean's cheek, kissing a path down the center of Dean's chest. His lips closed around one nipple, tongue teasing the cinnamon nub before he gently bit down on it. He smirked when Dean groaned, Sam moving to do the same with its twin. Once he'd lavished attention to both of Dean's nipples, Sam continued to kiss his way down Dean's chest before he nuzzled against the soft patch of hair above his brother's dick. 

Sam didn't give Dean a chance to catch his breath before he swallowed his brother all the way to the root, allowing his throat to work around the head of Dean's cock. He smirked around the member in his mouth when he heard Dean groan his name. Sam liked that a lot more than he thought he would. Usually, it was Dean making Sam come undone like this – it was Dean's turn to lose his mind. 

Without thinking, Dean's hand shot between his legs, fingers carding in Sam's shaggy chestnut locks so Dean could hold on for dear life. He'd dreamed of his brother sucking his cock on many occasions, but he never imagined it would be like this. “Fuck...Sammy,” Dean groaned, allowing Sam to shove his legs open wider to accommodate Sam's broad shoulders. 

He wanted to buck up into his brother's mouth, but Dean fought the urge. He didn't want to spook Sam by making him nearly choke. Though he knew that if Sam didn't quit bobbing his head like that, Dean was going to cum before the _real_ fun started. Gently, Dean tugged on Sam's hair, trying to get his brother's attention. “Sammy, m'gonna cum,” he breathed. “Stop...c'mere. Get up here.”

Although Sam didn't really want to stop, he did as he was told. He didn't want this to end yet either. Pulling off his brother's cock with a wet _pop_ , Sam slithered back up Dean's body, lips crushing against Dean's once more as he shoved his tongue into his brother's mouth, letting Dean taste himself. “Gonna fuck me?” Sam breathed when the kiss broke, lust blown hazel eyes staring down into Dean's nearly black eyes. “Need you, D'n.”

“Yes,” Dean promised, breaths panting out of him. His fingers twisted in Sam's hair once more before Dean yanked his brother into another kiss. “Mine,” he growled when the kiss broke, nipping at Sam's bottom lip. “Want you so bad, Sammy.”

Still not being gentle, Sam slapped Dean's hand out of his hair. He'd been sure to get Dean's cock nice and wet while he'd been blowing him because Sam wasn't in the mood for a lengthy preparation process. He and Dean had been going at it like rabbits lately, so he figured he could take it. Sure, it would be a little rougher than usual, but Sam was okay with that. Honestly, it's what he needed right now.

Not wasting another second, Sam turned at the waist, gripping the base of Dean's cock as he lined himself up. Slowly, Sam sank down onto his brother, not stopping until his ass was flush against Dean's thighs. It burned – _a lot_ – definitely not something that he was used to. Though, oddly enough, Sam wasn't turned off by it. Right now, it was kind of exactly what Sam needed. 

Giving himself a minute to adjust, Sam allowed his hands to slap down against Dean's chest, short blunt nails clawing into his brother's pecs. For some reason, Sam wanted Dean to feel pain, too. He'd been with his brother for _days_ before this, and he hadn't said anything to him! It had taken their father spilling the beans that there was something to say for Dean to open his mouth. And Sam was pissed. 

Slowly, Sam wiggling his hips, testing the waters. A twinge shot up his spine, pain mixing with the beginning tendrils of pleasure. He waited a second before he did it again, allowing his body to slowly get used to the invasion. One hand snaked behind Dean's head, fingers carding in his short-cropped hair. “Kiss me,” Sam ordered, using the grip on Dean's hair to help his brother sit up far enough to crush their lips together.

The kiss was anything but gentle. Their teeth clacked with the force of it, pulling a groan from Dean. Sam's hand tightened in his hair to keep him from getting away as he shoved his tongue into the older Winchester's mouth, tangling it with Dean's. Only when Sam needed oxygen did he pull back, biting into Dean's bottom lip with his canines to inflict the most pain possible. 

When Sam bit him, Dean growled once more, pulling his head back. Damn, Sam was in a mood – the younger man had almost drawn blood. Chuckling, Dean gripped Sam's hip with one hand, his other hand moving to card through Sam's hair once more, jerking the younger man's head to the side. “You wanna play rough?” Dean asked, eyes searching Sam's face. “I can play rough baby.”

Before Sam had a chance to think, Dean had them flipped over. He didn't let Sam recover from it as he wrapped his arm around the back of Sam's knee, forcing it up and out as he started thrusting his hips. He smirked down at his brother when the younger man groaned. “So...Sammy likes it rough,” Dean panted, chuckling. “I'll have to remember that.”

“Shut up and fuck me like you promised, Dean,” Sam spat, wrapping his free leg around Dean's waist so he had leverage to push back and meet Dean's thrusts. “Harder,” Sam grunted, head pressed back against the pillows as he squeezed his eyes close in pleasure. “Fuck...Dean...don't stop.”

Dean liked this version of Sam. Repositioning his hold on Sam's leg, Dean drug the younger man back against him more tightly as he moved to get on his knees, giving himself more control of the motion. Roughly, Dean grabbed Sam's other leg, maneuvering it so that he had his brother's legs spread wide open for him as he thrust into the younger man. “Oh, don't worry Sammy,” he breathed. “M'not gonna stop until I'm ready to.”

Pain and pleasure were mixing together inside Sam to drive him absolutely insane. “Dean...God...fuck,” he panted out, head thrashing on the bed as he fought the need to cum right then and there. His brother was too good at this – he knew how to make Sam come undone too quickly. It didn't bode well for Sam when he was trying to make his brother suffer for what he'd done. 

When Dean's fingers wrapped around Sam's achingly hard cock, he was done for. A few strips of Dean's warm, calloused palm over Sam's dick, and his balls were drawing up tight against his body. His back arched off the bed as hot, white ropes of jizz shot from his member, coating Dean's hand as Dean's name fell from Sam's lips.

It took everything Dean had in him not to shoot his load inside his brother when Sam came. Slowly, he pulled himself off Sam, licking his brother's seed off his fingers as he crawled up the younger man's body. The fingers of his other hand wrapped around his own cock as he jerked himself off. “Open your mouth, baby,” Dean ordered, eyes blown with lust locking on Sam's as the younger man did as he told. After a few strokes, Dean was cumming, biting into his bottom lip as he watched his release spray over Sam's cheeks and lips. 

As soon as he came, Dean rolled onto his back next to Sam on the bed. His chest rose and fell with panted breaths as he tried to calm down. His arm slung over Sam's shoulders, Dean scratching at Sam's scalp since he knew his brother liked it so much. “You okay?” Dean asked, rolling onto his side and pressing a kiss against Sam's shoulder.

Slowly, Sam nodded. “M'fine,” he assured his brother, using the back of his hand to wipe away the evidence of Dean's release. “Why didn't you tell me?” Sam asked after a few moments of silence. “That I had demon blood in me? Why didn't you tell me, Dean?”

Of course they were going to talk about this. It was Sam, after all – Dean expected no less. “I didn't want to upset you,” Dean answered. “You were already pissy with me all of the time, and I just didn't want to add fuel to the fire. I was gonna tell you eventually. You know I would have. Because I need you. For when we kill Azazel.”

A deep frown came to Sam's lips when Dean mentioned killing the demon. “Dean, how are we going to kill the demon?” Sam asked, giving his head a small shake. “We don't have the Colt anymore. The demon has it. And as far as I know, that's the only way to kill a demon, Dean.”

Oh, there were so many things Sam didn't understand. “Sammy, there are other ways to kill demons,” Dean assured him. “I can show you.” Leaning in, Dean kissed his brother. When he broke the kiss, Dean cupped Sam's cheek, gazing into his brother's eyes. “You are so much stronger than you can even imagine, baby.”

Again, Sam frowned at his brother. “What do you mean?” he asked, eyes searching his brother's face for answers. There was more Dean wasn't telling him – Sam could see it. “I'm stronger than I imagine? What do I have to do with anything, Dean?”

Dean's smile widened when his brother asked what he had to do with anything. “You're the key, Sammy,” Dean whispered, excitement in his tone. “You can kill demons. I mean, you need to train, and we have to get your strength up, which might take a little while, but you can kill them. You're gonna be the one to kill him, Sammy.”

And once again, Dean wasn't making any sense. “Dean, you're insane,” Sam chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head. “I can't kill demons. I would know if I could kill demons. I mean, it would have made my life a lot easier growing up, don't you think? Especially with our job?”

Now, it was Dean's turn to shake his head. “You never had the right training, Sammy,” Dean argued. “Never had the right tools, baby.” He rolled onto his back and groped around on the floor as he listened to Sam firing off fifty million questions at him. When he found what he was looking for, Dean rolled back onto the bed fully, smiling widely at his brother as he dragged his knife across his forearm. “Drink.”


	5. Chapter Five

Sam couldn't take his eyes off his brother's wrist. Dean was bleeding, and Sam didn't know what he was supposed to do. His brother wanted him to drink, but everything in Sam was telling him to bolt. But he'd promised Dean that he wouldn't do that – he'd promised he wouldn't leave. “Dean,” Sam whispered, his tongue snaking out to wet his suddenly too dry lips. “W-Why would I do that?”

The war waging inside his brother's head was so clearly written on his face that Dean almost felt sorry for him. But he knew this was what needed to be done. Sam needed to become stronger, and Dean had everything he needed to make Sam stronger. Sure, his brother probably didn't understand it now, but this was for the best. After all, Sam wanted this demon dead as much as Dean and John did. Everyone was winning in this case. 

And if Dean was hoping this would bring him and Sam even closer, he wasn't about to admit it. At least not out loud, anyway. So he had an ulterior motive. So what? There wasn't a single person in this scenario who was in a position to judge. And they needed this. “Because you have to,” Dean answered, scooting closer to his brother on the bed. “It's the only way to make you strong enough to kill him. This is the first part of your training. Without it, your powers are useless.”

Powers? What the hell was Dean talking about. “I-I don't...have powers,” Sam answered, giving his head a small shake. He watched as the wound in Dean's wrist started to clot already, slowly closing right before his eyes. “Dean...I'm just me. I don't...understand. How am I supposed to kill demons? I mean, I can exorcise them. And I can...trap them. Send them back to Hell. But I can't kill them. Not without the Colt.”

When his wound closed, Dean sighed. Gently, he cupped Sam's cheek, eyes locking on his brother's. “Sammy, I can show you,” he promised. A small smile came to his lips as he searched his brother's face. “You're so much stronger than you think you are baby.” Leaning in, Dean pressed his lips to Sam's, tongue pushing against his brother's lips and demanding entrance. “Let me show you.”

Although Sam was scared, he trusted Dean. His brother had never done anything to make him think he'd hurt him, and Sam was sure Dean wasn't about to start now. Besides, if he could kill demons, he was doing something good for the world. With the Colt, it killed the victim – maybe Sam could help them survive. “O-Okay,” Sam whispered, nodding to reiterate that he wanted to move forward with this. 

A wide smile came to Dean's lips when Sam agreed to let him help. Again, Dean grabbed the knife that he placed on the nightstand and ran the blade over his forearm. His eyes ticked up to meet Sam's as he pushed his arm toward the younger man. “Drink,” he whispered, his free hand carding through Sam's hair as the younger man lowered his head.

As soon as Sam's mouth closed over Dean's wound, he felt power explode through his whole body. His hands came up to hold Dean's arm, pulling the limb closer to himself. Everything seemed to fade away around him until all that was left was Dean – Dean's blood. He felt Dean's fingers carding through his hair, causing a moan to break from his throat.

Much too soon, Dean was pulling his arm away from him, causing an annoyed groan to escape Sam's lips. “Dean,” he breathed, his heart slamming against his chest. This was like something he'd never felt before – Sam didn't know how to process it. His eyes ticked up to meet Dean's, the questioning look causing his brother to smile. 

“How do you feel?” Dean asked, eyes searching his brother's face. He looked good. Sure, most people wouldn't see it, but Dean could see the changes in his brother already. He looked stronger – the power inside him was just pushing at the surface. Dean couldn't wait to give him another dose. 

Slowly, Sam nodded, feeling something shifting inside of him already. He felt strong – he felt like nothing could hurt him. “I feel good,” Sam answered, giving his brother a small nod. “Like...I feel strong. Powerful.” Chuckling softly, Sam locked eyes with Dean once more. “I feel like nothing can hurt me, Dean.”

Again, Dean smiled widely at his brother. “Yeah?” he asked, biting into his bottom lip when Sam nodded. “You look good. _Really_ good.” Scooting closer to Sam, Dean suggested, “Maybe you should show me how powerful you feel right now, baby.” 

It was easy to see the lust in Dean's eyes, causing Sam's cock to twitch. Yeah, he wanted to show Dean how powerful he felt. There was honestly, nothing more that he wanted right now. “Yeah,” he whispered, giving a nod. “I wanna show you.”

Without hesitation, Sam surged forward, crushing his lips against Dean's. He moaned into his brother's mouth when Dean fisted his hands in his hair, pulling Sam closer. Roughly, Sam pressed his palms flat against Dean's chest, shoving him onto his back as he straddled the older man. “I'm on top,” he growled, biting Dean's bottom lip when his brother tried to crush their lips together once more.

Damn, he wished he would have done this sooner. Sam was fucking sexy when he had demon blood running through his veins. “Go ahead baby,” Dean smirked, hands moving to grip his brother's hips. “I'm just along for the ride, Sammy.” He bit into his bottom lip as Sam slowly lowered himself onto his cock, Dean's head pressed back against the pillows, eyes squeezed tightly in pleasure.

The lack of preparation was new for Sam. But it wasn't necessarily unpleasant. Besides, they'd just had sex, so Sam was still pretty open. Still, he made sure to keep his movements slow, stopping completely when his ass connected with Dean's thighs. His hands once again pressed against Dean's chest, fingers curling around his brother's pectorals. “Dean...” he moaned, biting into his bottom lip as his brother's grip on his hips tightened. 

Before Dean really had a chance to catch his breath, Sam was rocking on his dick. “Fuck...Sammy,” Dean moaned, fingers sliding up his brother's back, leaving red scratches in his wake. His right hand moved to wrap around Sam's cock, stroking his brother in time with each slam of his hips. “So good, baby. Damn...keep goin'.”

Sam kept up a brutal pace, slamming down onto his brother as he chased his orgasm. Dean's cock hit Sam's prostate with each downward thrust, causing the younger man to moan loudly. “God...D'n...” Sam gasped, his hands moving to grip his brother's shoulders. “M'gonna cum. Dean...m'gonna—” He couldn't finish his sentence before his back arched, his release shooting from his cock and splashing against Dean's chest.

As soon as Sam came, his inner muscles clenched around his member, dragging Dean's own orgasm from him. “Fuck,” he breathed, grunting softly when Sam flopped down on top of him. Gripping Sam's shoulder blade, Dean rolled them so that they were on their sides. He hissed in slight discomfort when his cock slid from Sam's body, Dean quickly shoving his leg between Sam's. “You were fucking hot,” Dean complimented, lips grazing over Sam's neck and shoulder. 

When Dean complimented him, Sam breathed out a chuckle. “Yeah, you weren't too bad yourself,” Sam mumbled. There was still something about this that bothered Sam, though. “Dean...” he whispered, biting into his bottom lip as he locked eyes with his brother. “I don't want to kill people,” he explained. “I mean...I understand that I'll have to kill demons, and I'm fine with that. But these...special children. They're human – they're like me. I can't...kill them.”

Of course, Dean never expected Sam to be okay with killing the special children. Which was why he wasn't even going to involve Sam in that. “Don't worry baby,” he whispered, fingers carding through Sam's shaggy hair. “I won't ask you to. I know how you feel. Let me and Dad handle that part. All we need you to do is practice. Get stronger. And kill Azazel, baby. You can do it.”

Now that he knew Dean wasn't expecting him to hurt people, Sam felt a lot better about this situation. “Okay,” he smiled, giving his head a small nod. “I can do that.” Snuggling in closer to Dean, Sam mumbled, “Can we start in the morning though? I'm beat.” 

Chuckling softly, Dean nodded. “Yeah, we can start in the morning,” Dean assured his brother. Gently, he pressed a kiss to the top of Sam's head. “Get some sleep baby. This is gonna be a lot of work. You need your rest.”

**~~**

Dean hadn't been exaggerating when he said this was going to be a lot of work. Sam felt like he was drained as he fell into the bed with a sigh. Dean had given him blood this morning, and Sam already felt like he needed another dose. He'd been exorcising demons all day, and he was tired. Dean kept telling him that he was getting stronger, but Sam didn't feel it. He felt weak. 

He felt the bed dip beside him, Sam immediately rolling onto his side and pressing his body against Dean's. “M'tired,” Sam muttered, snuggling into his brother's shoulder. “Feel like I'm not improving. Like I'm getting weaker instead of stronger.”

“You're not,” Dean assured his brother. Sam was always harder on himself than he needed to be. “You're doing great. I told you that it takes a lot out of you, Sammy.” Running his fingers through Sam's hair, Dean pressed a kiss to his temple. “You just need more blood, Sammy. You'll feel better when you have more blood in you.”

Although he knew Dean was right, there was a part of Sam nagging at him that he couldn't do this. He wasn't strong enough to kill Azazel – he was going to fail. Of course, Dean always told him otherwise, and for the most part, Sam believed his brother. But sometimes, like right now when he felt too tired to even lift his head, he didn't believe he was strong enough for anything. “What's tomorrow?” Sam whispered, his eyes fluttering closed as Dean played with his hair.

Tomorrow was a big day. He and John were headed to Peoria, Illinois where they were going to gank themselves a secretary. She was one of the last special children they had left on their list. Once she was gone, he and John were going to have to figure out how they'd handle the final child. He was a member in the army, and he was stationed in Afghanistan right now. He was going to be the toughest of them all to get. But he and John hoped they'd have them all taken care of by the end of the week. And then it was time for Azazel. 

Slowly, Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair. “You're going to stay here tomorrow,” Dean explained. “Dad and I have something to take care of in Peoria, baby. But we'll be back before nightfall – I have no doubt.” He could see Sam's eyes falling shut, letting him know the younger man was going to be out before too long. Not that Dean minded. He had a lot of things to do tonight to get ready for tomorrow. “Get some sleep baby. I'll talk to you when I get back tomorrow, okay?”

He couldn't help the smile that came to his lips when Sam merely mumbled something before he was snoring softly. Once he was sure the younger man was asleep, Dean pushed himself off the bed, grabbing his knife on the way to the kitchen. Reaching into the fridge, Dean pulled out the jug he'd been keeping in there for a few nights now. Sam was going to need to be strong when it was time to take Azazel out.

Sam had killed demons already since this had started. Sure, it had taken a lot out of him, but that's just because he hadn't had enough juice. In order to be ready to kill Azazel, Sam was basically going to have to bleed a demon dry. And since Sam wasn't willing to drink from anyone other than his brother, Dean had been preparing for it. He had almost a gallon here in this jug. He figured he needed about half a gallon more before he had enough to satiate Sam for the big day. And Dean was sure he could get that much within the next few days.

Slicing into his wrist, Dean watched as his blood spilled into the jug. His eyes landed on Sam as he waited for his body to tell him that he'd donated enough. Usually, his brother stirred when he started bleeding – not tonight, though. Sam hadn't drank from him in a couple of days, so this particular session had taken a lot out of the younger man. Dean hated seeing him like this.

After about fifteen minutes, Dean started to feel weak, letting him know that he'd given enough for this sitting. Sighing, Dean pushed himself out of his chair, gently placing the blood back into the fridge where he'd been keeping it. One glance at the clock told him that he needed to be on the road with his father in a few hours. But after so much blood loss, he needed to catch a few hours of sleep before he left, otherwise he was going to be useless.

Without thinking too much about it, Dean tossed himself into the bed with his brother, arms immediately wrapping around the younger man's waist. Sam shoved his body so close to him that if someone would come into the room, they wouldn't know where Sam ended and Dean began. Not that Dean was complaining – he liked how close Sam got to him. Before too long, Dean was sleeping right alongside Sam.

*~~**

Their trip to Peoria didn't last as long as they thought it would. It had been easy enough to find Ava Wilson – even easier to take her off the map. She hadn't even had time to scream before her throat was cut and they'd tossed her into the dumpster for someone else to find days from now. 

On the trip up here, they'd been talking tactics on how to find Jake. It wasn't easy to teleport, but both of them did have the ability. So they'd decided to teleport to Afghanistan where they could take care of Jake once and for all. Of course, Dean wasn't an idiot – he knew they couldn't both go. Someone needed to stay back and keep an eye on Sam in case Azazel caught wind that his last little soldier had been taken out. After all, as soon as Jake was gone, Sam was going to be Azazel's new target. 

So, they'd come to the conclusion that John was going to take care of Jake while Dean watched out for Sam. And Dean was going to make sure Sam drank all of the blood he had been stockpiling, and then some, so he was ready to take down the demon. After all, Dean knew that it wouldn't be long before Azazel tracked down Sam. Hell, for all Dean knew, old yellow eyes knew exactly where Sam was right now.

After saying their goodbyes, John was halfway across the world while Dean was driving back to his brother. Sam was never too far away, so Dean made it to him within a couple of hours. And sure, he may have been breaking a few speed limits, but Dean didn't much care about that. No cops pulled him over, so it didn't really matter.

When he walked into the room with Sam, Dean was immediately greeted with an armful of 6'4” rock hard body slamming into him. Sam sniffled in Dean's ear as he held him close, hands clawing at Dean's shirt. What the hell? Pulling back, Dean cupped Sam's face in his hands, pushing the younger man's shaggy hair out of his face to confirm his suspicions. Sam was crying. “What's the matter, baby?” Dean asked, eyes searching Sam's face for answers.

“I-I saw him, Dean,” Sam whispered, trying to hold back his tears. “A-Azazel...is that his name?” When Dean nodded, Sam returned the gesture. “I saw him. He came to me in a dream. Dean, he-he knows what we're trying to do. He said that he's not going to let us get away with it.” Shaking his head, Sam tried to get Dean to stop telling him to calm down. This was serious. “Dean, Jake isn't in Afghanistan! He's here! In this town! He's looking for me!”

Just as Sam said the last sentence, the door burst open, wood splintering throughout the room. When the door split, Dean shoved Sam onto the floor, blanketing Sam's body with his own so the younger man didn't get hurt. 

Anger bubbled through Dean as he pushed himself off his brother, standing to face the intruder. A man wearing a military uniform walked through the door, Colt in hand. “Let me guess,” Dean started, eying the gun in the man's hand, “you must be Jake. I'd like to say it's nice to meet you, but then I'd be lying.” Tilting his head toward the gun, Dean complimented, “That's a nice piece you have there. But you really should leave the killing to the grown ups.”

Of course, Dean hadn't thought that was going to work. Jake raised his arm, pointing the gun at Sam. He didn't have time to fire off a shot before Dean flicked his hand sideways, his demonic powers forcing the gun out of Jake's hands. “Civilians really shouldn't play with toys they don't understand,” Dean grumped. Just as Jake was about to rush them, Dean flicked his wrist once more, slamming the man into the wall and holding him there.

Keeping Jake pinned to the wall, Dean turned his attention to Sam. “Sammy, do me a favor,” he ordered. “Get into the fridge and pull out that jug that's on the bottom shelf.” He watched as his brother did as he was told. “I have a feeling as soon as I gank this dick, Azazel's coming here to collect his soldier. You need to drink that, Sam. _All_ of it. And probably some more once that's gone.”

As soon as the lid was off, Sam felt his body responding to the smell of Dean's blood flooding the room. His mouth practically watered as he lifted the jug to his lips. He barely held back the moan as he sucked down the first gulp, feeling himself becoming stronger with each swallow. This was it. They were doing this tonight.


	6. Chapter Six

Sam moaned softly as he lapped at his brother's arm, collecting all of the blood that had dribbled out of his mouth while he'd been drinking deep. He felt better than he had in days – he felt strong. Almost like he could take on anything that came his way. But when the blood was all gone, Sam had to admit that he wasn't too thrilled about it. However, as soon as he saw the look on Dean's face, Sam forgot about everything else as he surged forward and crushed their lips together. “I want you,” Sam mumbled, biting into his brother's plush bottom lip.

Although Dean wanted nothing more than to shove Sam up against the wall and take what he wanted, he knew that wasn't an option right now. They had a job to do. And Dean intended to finish it before he indulged in his own guilty pleasures. “Sammy, we have work to do,” he reminded, smiling at the younger man when he pouted. “As soon as I kill this bastard, Azazel is coming. You know what you have to do, baby.”

Yes, Sam knew. But that didn't mean he had to like it. Sighing, Sam nodded, still pouting at his brother. “Yeah, I know,” he assured the older man. And for some reason, after drinking this amount of blood, Sam didn't even care that he was about to witness Dean killing an innocent human. Not that he was too sure Jake was innocent. After all, he had come here in hopes of killing them, Sam was sure. “Do it, Dean,” Sam ordered. “The sooner he gets here, the sooner I can kill him and have my way with you.”

It was hard to focus on anything while Sam was practically humping his leg, but Dean was determined. This was what they'd been waiting for. This was the final step before Sam became face-to-face with Azazel and he killed the bastard. And Dean wasn't going to let anything get in his way.

He could hear Jake begging him to let him go in the background, but Dean didn't care. The last thing he was going to do was let this special child leave this room. The only special child leaving this room was going to be Sam. And he was going to be right behind him when he did. After all, there was no way they could explain two dead bodies away without getting the police involved. And Dean wasn't too keen on involving the cops. Plus, they had to go meet up with their father again.

Without giving it too much thought, Dean swiped his hand to the far right, smirking slightly when he heard the snap of bone. “Are you ready?” Dean asked as Jake's body fell limply to the floor. “He's going to come for you soon. I won't let him take you out of this room, baby.” His hand moved to card through Sam's hair, jerking his head forward so he could crush their lips together once more. “I wanna watch.”

The idea of Dean watching him kill this demon had Sam's cock twitching in his jeans. “Okay,” he breathed, giving his brother a small nod. If Dean wanted to witness Sam in action, who was he to turn him down. “How do you know he's going to come here for me?” Sam asked. “How do you know he isn't just going to grab me somewhere else?”

Honestly, Dean wasn't sure. He had just assumed that Sam was going to meet Azazel here. But maybe he was wrong. Now that Dean was thinking about it, Azazel was more than likely at the cemetery waiting for Sam to open the Devil's Gate so he could get through. If that was the case though, Dean wasn't above taking the fight to him. This was ending tonight one way or another.

Moving to pick up the weapon he'd taken from Jake, Dean stuffed the gun into his waistband. “C'mon Sammy, you're right,” Dean explained. “I think I know where he is. It's about an hour's drive from here, so we gotta get moving. We don't want my blood to wear off before he's dead.”

With that, Sam and Dean were in the car racing toward Southern Wyoming. There was a hundred square mile Devil's Trap waiting for them there. Of course, Sam was the only one who could get through at the moment, but that didn't matter. Azazel would be there waiting, and Dean was going to make sure his brother finished the job once and for all. They hadn't done this for nothing, after all.

The atmosphere in the cemetery was off – Sam felt it as soon as he walked onto the grounds. He had a feeling they weren't alone, and he knew Dean could feel it, too. His brother was on edge – walking like he was on eggshells as he moved through the field. There was a large railroad type contraption around the cemetery – Sam assumed it was the Devil's Trap. After all, any idiot could feel the power radiating from it.

“Sam,” came a voice from behind them, causing them both to turn on their heels. Sam's breath picked up in his chest when his eyes landed on familiar bright yellow orbs. He _hated_ those eyes. “It's good to see you again. Since you're here, I can only assume you and your brother killed Jake. No matter – I like you better.”

Rage had Sam's body nearly shaking as he held his ground. “Yeah, he's dead,” Sam confirmed. “He tried to kill me. There was no way my brother was allowing him to live after that. But you knew that.” Suddenly, it became very clear to Sam that Azazel had planned it. “You wanted Jake to come to the motel – you basically signed his death warrant.”

Shrugging, Azazel moved away from the tree he was leaning against. “Like I said, Sammy, you're my favorite,” he repeated. “I wanted you here all along. The way it should be. You were meant to be my champion. Those other children were just fillers.”

Again, anger shot through Sam. “ _Don't_ call me that,” Sam growled. “He's the only one who gets to call me that.” His head thrust toward Dean as he spoke. He wasn't about to engage in conversation with this demon. He was better than that. Sam was here for one reason, and one reason alone – it was time to kill this dick once and for all. 

When Sam spoke, Azazel merely shrugged once more. “Did you bring the present I gave you?” Azazel asked, eyes darting from Sam to Dean, then back. “The Colt? I sent it with Jake. It's the key you're going to need to open that Devil's door, Sam. And then we can begin your training.”

A small smirk came to Sam's lips when Azazel mentioned the Colt. “No, I didn't,” he answered, shaking his head. “I don't need it. I'm not leading your damn demon army. And I sure as Hell am not letting Lucifer wear me to Prom.” Moving a little closer to the Devil's trap, Sam glared at Azazel. “I know all about your plans for me. And I've got a few plans of my own.”

Now, Azazel was getting angry. “Sam, you don't seem to understand that you don't have a choice in this matter,” Azazel spat. “You're the last one standing, and my army needs a leader. They'll fall in line behind you. Without you, they'll run around all on their own, wreaking havoc because they have no direction. You leading them is the best option.”

Again, Sam shook his head. “I'm not doing it,” he argued. “But it won't matter. You won't have an army because that Devil's door isn't opening. The key is the Colt, right? Well, Dean and I have it somewhere no one is ever going to find it. And you...well, you'll be too dead to need to worry about an army.” 

Angrily, Azazel shot his hand out toward Sam, intent on throwing the kid around for good measure. However, when Sam didn't move, Azazel frowned deeply. How was that possible? This was not how this was supposed to be happening. The only way Sam would be immune to his powers was if he had an extraordinary amount of demon blood in his system. And that just wasn't possible.

It was clear on Azazel's face that the demon was scared. Good, Sam liked that. “Looks like it doesn't work on me,” Sam taunted, feeling more powerful than he'd felt in a long time. It was about time these demons got a taste of their own medicine. “You see, while you were busy trying to build your army and find a champion, I was busy preparing for this very moment.”

Much like Azazel had done, Sam shot his arm forward, watching with satisfaction as the demon went flying through the air. He watched as Azazel's back slammed against one of the mausoleums, a small smirk on his lips once more. “Dean and I have been practicing,” Sam explained, stalking toward his prey as he held Azazel trapped to the building behind him. “Honing my skills. Sending demons back to Hell.” Once he was right in front of Azazel, his eyes locked on the demon, Sam finished, “But now...now, I can kill.”

Sam twisted his hand in the air, watching with satisfaction as Azazel cried out in pain. Bright orange light emanated from Azazel's meat suit, lighting up the night sky as the demon panted out his breaths. Sam could tell that he was stronger than he'd ever been – his headaches were nonexistent right now, and he knew he had more to give. So, twisting his hand once more, Sam pushed more power through his body, watching as Azazel arched his back, crying out in pain once more. 

Suddenly, the demon started laughing, causing Sam to stop what he was doing. “Don't you see, Sammy?” Azazel panted, chuckling once more. “You think you're doing the world good? But you're wrong. This won't stop with me. Other powers want Lucifer to walk free. And killing me won't stop it.” Again, he chuckled. “But, I have to admit that Dean did a really good job training you.”

“I'll _never_ let Lucifer walk free,” Sam spat, glaring at the demon. “Whatever comes my way, I'll end it. Just like I'm about to end you. What the hell makes you think you're so special? You think that you can just walk into my nursery, bleed into my mouth, _kill_ my mother, and I'm going to let you get away with it?! No. No, I've been waiting for this moment for a _very_ long time.”

Another chuckle escaped Azazel at Sam's words. “And it didn't matter to you how we got here, huh Sam?” he asked. “I may have given you the demon blood in the first place, but you're the one who chose this path, Sammy. You let your brother turn you into a freak – a monster – and I'm sure you enjoyed every second of it. _That_ is the reality of the situation. And even I couldn't have predicted that.”

That same anger from earlier spiked up inside Sam, making him see red. He wasn't a monster. He was doing this for the greater good! Sometimes, people had to do bad things to make the world right! And once Azazel was dead, and the threat of Lucifer walking topside was gone, Sam was going to stop drinking Dean's blood. He was going to make sure his brother was cured, and everything would go back to the way it was. It had to. “Shut up!” Sam ordered, hearing the demon laughing in his head – taunting him. 

Without another word, Sam shot his hand forward one last time. He shoved all of the power he could muster into the action, shoving all of his hatred for the demon to the surface. Again, that burning orange light shined, Azazel's skeleton lighting up from the inside. Sam didn't stop until the light shot from the demon's eyes, a strangled cry breaking from the meat suit as the demon inhabiting it perished. 

Dean watched in awe as his brother shot power through his body and toward the demon. It was the hottest thing Dean had ever seen in his entire life. A wide smile came to his lips as his brother's eyes bled to black moments before Azazel died. Fuck, that was hot. His breaths were panting out of him as he moved toward his brother, his own onyx eyes staring into Sam's. “You did it,” Dean congratulated. “He's dead.”

His breaths were panting out of him as Sam allowed his eyes to roam over the demon's body. Of course, he hadn't been able to save the human Azazel had been possessing – not that he really thought he could have. But at least this was over. The demon was finally dead. Sam didn't have to worry about his master plan anymore, and he didn't have to worry about Lucifer walking free either. He felt...free.

Unable to keep his hands off Sam for another second, Dean gripped the front of Sam's shirt, shoving the younger man against a tree. “You are so hot baby,” Dean breathed, lips crushing over Sam's. The power radiating from his brother was palpable – Dean loved it. “Never been turned on by black eyes before baby, but you make them look good.”

As soon as Dean told him he had black eyes, Sam frowned, brows knit in confusion. “I-I have black eyes?” Sam asked, searching Dean's face for clarification. “But...I'm not a demon. I-I shouldn't have black eyes.” Sam didn't feel like a demon, anyway. He didn't think he was different. Then again, he wasn't sure what drinking demon blood long-term would do to a person. And with the quantity of blood he'd drank just today, there was a chance he was...changing.

But no – that wasn't right. Sam wasn't supposed to be changing. He was supposed to be curing his brother and his father. This was all wrong. “Dean, stop,” he muttered, trying to push his brother off of him. This was serious. And he couldn't concentrate when Dean was trying to shove his hand down his pants. “Dean, am I...did I turn into a demon?”

It was painfully obvious that Sam was upset about something. Why, Dean had no idea. There was nothing wrong with being a demon. Dean knew that. And the sooner Sam embraced it, he would feel a lot better too. “No, you didn't,” he assured the younger man with a shake of his head. “But that wouldn't be a bad thing baby.” He could tell that Sam didn't necessarily believe him, but Dean was determined to believe that it wasn't a bad thing. “Sammy, look at me.” 

When his brother did as he was told, Dean smiled softly at him. “The effects of my blood in your system will wear off in a day or two. You're not going to feel this way forever.” Biting into his lip, Dean cupped the side of Sam's face, smiling at his brother once more. “But you could. Remember how good you felt when you were killing demons and saving their meat suits, Sammy? You can keep doing that. We can go hunting again, Sammy. I'm sure now this demon is gone, Dad won't care. We can be a family again like old times.”

While that sounded like a good plan, Sam wasn't too sure he could believe it. There was no way he could get that lucky. Now that Azazel was gone, who the hell knew what John was planning on doing. And Sam didn't like uncertainty – he wasn't a fan of the unknown. “Dean...I don't know if that's what Dad wants. Not the way he is now.”

“The way he is now?” Dean asked, giving his head a small shake. “You mean a demon?” He hated that John Winchester had engrained it into their heads that demons were bad. Not all of them were the same. Not all of them wanted to wreak havoc and kill the world. Dean wasn't like that. All he wanted was his brother safe and healthy and with his family where he belonged. Sure, John Winchester sometimes got a little out of hand, but for the most part, he just wanted to be left alone, too. 

Slowly, Sam shook his head. “I'm sorry, Dean,” he whispered. “I know you don't care that you're a demon, but I do. I mean...yeah, it was helpful right now. And I like being able to kill demons without harming the victims, but Dean, c'mon – we can't keep doing this. I have to fix you.”

Anger bubbled up inside of Dean when Sam told him he wanted to fix him. “I'm not broken, Sam!” he argued. “I'm fine! I'm still _me_! We just hunted a demon, and we killed it! You and I used to do all of that before I became a demon! I don't want to be fixed! I'm fine!”

Before Sam could answer, John appeared behind Dean, pressing his hand against his son's shoulder. “You don't have to be fixed, Dean,” he placated his son, frowning at Sam. “What is this about, son?” he asked, dark chocolate eyes landing on his youngest. “I thought you'd given up that bullshit about trying to cure us. There is no cure, Sam. You can look through your books all you want to – scour the internet for countless hours of the day. You won't find anything.”

A small frown came to Sam's lips at John's words. He knew he probably wasn't going to be able to find anything. He wasn't stupid – he'd been searching for the better part of a year, and there had never been any successful cases of bringing someone back once they'd been turned. There were countless cases of failures, which just wasn't an option. Sighing, Sam nodded, “I know. But...I don't know what else to do. I...don't trust you like this.”

Now, it was John's turn to frown. “What have we done to make you not trust us, Sammy?” he asked, head tilting to the side. “Dean and I have been nothing but honest with you since the beginning. Besides, we're going to need all of the extra strength we can get for our next job.” When both of his sons turned to look at him with questioning eyes, John smiled widely at them. “We're going to bring back your mother.”

He quickly shushed Sam and Dean when they started shooting him questions. “I've been working on something,” he informed them. “I don't know how close I am, or if I'm even close at all. But I have to try. And if this is going to be successful – if we're going to bring her back – we need to do it as a family. Are you boys in?”

Dean's eyes ticked to Sam's for a moment, searching the younger man's face for any sign of doubt. It was there, but it was minor – their father probably hadn't even noticed it. “I'm in,” he answered, eyes swinging to John as he straightened up. He just hoped that Sam wouldn't leave them hanging. This was big. This was their _family_. 

Hope bubbled up inside Sam when his father said they were going to bring Mary back. How could he turn down that offer. “Of course I'm in,” he assured the other two men, nodding to emphasize his point. There was no way he wasn't going to at least try to bring her back. Curing John and Dean could wait until they were out of options, he supposed.

Once John told Dean where they were headed, he climbed into his truck, leaving Sam and Dean to follow in the Impala. Before Dean started the car, he turned to Sam, a small frown on his lips. “Sammy, you really...don't trust me?” Dean asked, biting into his bottom lip. He couldn't help but feel hurt by the words Sam had spoken. After all, Dean hadn't done anything to make Sam feel like he couldn't trust him. 

It was easy to see that Dean was hurt by his words. Sam felt like a real jackass for saying it. “No, Dean,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “I didn't mean that. I trust _you_. Obviously I trust you. I wouldn't have trained for so long with you and come here to find Azazel with you if I didn't trust you. I just meant...I never know what to expect from you. Not when you're like this.”

Another deep frown came to Dean's lips as Sam continued to speak. “I would never do anything you didn't want me to, Sammy,” Dean promised. “Not unless it was necessary. You know that, right?” Dean wasn't a mindless idiot since he'd become a demon – he still had rules that he followed.

Smiling softly at his brother, Sam nodded. Scooting closer, Sam cupped Dean's cheek before he pressed his lips against his brother's. “Wake me up when we get to Lawrence?” he asked, smiling like a goof ball at his brother. He was tired, and he needed the rest. Almost as soon as the Impala roared to life, Sam fell asleep, his head resting on his brother's shoulder.


End file.
